


Malum

by insanity_and_co



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanity_and_co/pseuds/insanity_and_co
Summary: Hanna Moreau is transferred over to a new therapist - Dr. Karen Fletcher - after a breakdown leaves her just barely functioning in society. Unable to heal and move on from a trauma suffered years ago and moving backwards in many ways, Hanna finds a new friend in a fellow patient...or perhaps 23 of them.





	1. Chapter One

“ _I'm not sending you away, Hanna. Your needs have changed over the years and I don't think I'm the right kind of therapist that can help you. What happened last week is proof of that and I'm not willing to risk you getting hurt again. I really wish you would give her a chance. Dr. Fletcher is a wonderful woman – a brilliant therapist – she can help you more than I can right now. You need someone like her.”_

Dr. Markas' words had been playing over and over again in Hanna's head.

The sweet elderly man could have told her a million times more and that wouldn't have helped the feeling of betrayal and dread that made her stomach flip. He had waited until the end of their session, talking about Hanna's latest “fit” (his words) before he grew quiet and finally approached the topic of transferring her. She should have noticed something was different, but their conversation had been more emotional than normal and Hanna had completely overlooked her rather large file on his desk next to an even larger envelope...he was sending Dr. Fletcher Hanna's file so this new woman could read up on Hanna before meeting her.

Even thinking about a stranger reading some of her most private information left a bad taste.

Immediately after being told that – after some loud words were exchanged on Hanna's part and she had finally left – she had looked up the name to see who exactly this woman was. Dr. Fletcher was a fairly common name, but through searching Hanna figured out which one this new therapist was.

The woman looked nice enough; white hair, wide smile, kind eyes...at least that's what she could tell from the few images on Google. However, she had a hard time envisioning herself – that's always what Dr. Markas told her to do – opening up to another therapist or anyone for that matter.

Hanna had only ever had one person in her life that she could truly talk to, and it had taken a lot of convincing and to put it bluntly, forcing for her to go. It had taken _years_ for her to become comfortable with the elderly doctor, and after all that time and after everything they had talked about and worked through, he was pushing her away.

There was no way for Hanna to hide how much that hurt her. However, her hurt had slowly been turning into anxiety after nights of laying awake in her bed, staring at the blank ceiling and willing herself to forget about it.

But of course she couldn't.

Each night brought her closer and closer to a break in her routine, and the even more daunting task of talking to a stranger about her personal life. It felt like each day twisted her stomach into tighter knots and a heavier weight was added to her chest.

Dr. Fletcher could have been reading about her at any moment...the image kept popping up in Hanna's head throughout the day of her first appointment. Even sitting on the bus on the way to her office, Hanna thought about when this new woman had gotten her file in the mail. Had she read it immediately or waited until just before today? Was she horrified? Would she pity her?

A surge of anger made Hanna's face feel hot at the last thought. She was not a thing to be pitied.

The bus came to a stop and Hanna observed the people around her. A man bobbed his head to music blasting through his headphones; an elderly woman was being helped to an open seat; a little kid was standing in his seat, face pressed against the window.

At the next stop Hanna adjusted her scarf and followed a handful of people off the bus. The cool breeze that hit her when she stepped onto the sidewalk was a welcomed relief after the stuffy ride – 15 minutes longer than it was when she would go to Dr. Markas.

She tried to shake the bitter feeling in her stomach as she took a deep breath and looked around her, getting her bearings in the new part of town. Hanna started down the street, having a vague idea of where Dr. Fletcher's office was and paused at a crosswalk before continuing.

The building was quite old, all brick and a large entryway covered by an arch. Some time ago, someone had carefully carved the address number into it, but now it was hardly readable. However, the list of offices off to the side of the door clearly read this new doctor's name on the third floor.

The inside really showed the building's age. The old wood lining the stairs and the wall looked like it hadn't been kept up in a long time, and the old patterned wallpaper and tiled floor had seen better days. The elevator to the side had a large “out of order” sign so Hanna found the stairs just a short ways from the front doors.

Hanna took the large spiral steps up three flights, checking her watch to find that she was earlier than she had expected...having already planned on being early and getting a chance to look around. By the time Hanna made it to the third floor she was a little out of breath, but relieved to see someone had left a window open. The fresh air was a nice break from the dusty smell of the old building.

The waiting area seemed nice enough; a comfy couch, a coffee table littered with magazines and books, and a large water cooler over in the corner.

Hanna did a small circle around the room, touching one of the ferns and rolling one of the small leaves between her fingers. She continued around to admire the paintings on the wall; some abstract that Hanna couldn't make out, some of nature, all with elaborate frames. By the time she had made it to the open window and had reached out to move the curtain behind it's holder at the wall a door creaked open and she jumped back, withdrawing her hand like the old dusty fabric had shocked her.

Hanna spun around to see a tall man step into the waiting room. He turned to lean back through the door enough to wave and smile widely at the therapist inside. “Thanks again, Dr. Fletcher. Same time next week, right?”

He didn't wait for a response before shutting the noisy door behind him and shoving his hands into his pockets. The man had taken a few steps towards the stairs before turning sharply towards Hanna as if just now noticing she was there.

“Where in God's name did you get that jacket?” the man asked, his voice surprisingly feminine despite his large build and mannish clothes. He crossed the room is several long steps, his trench coat swishing around his knees as he came to a stop in front of Hanna and reaching out to grab her jacket.

Hanna stood very still while the man admired it, surprised at how forward he was. His bright blue eyes light up as he talked about the kind of fabric it was – Hanna wasn't entirely sure - and something about his designs shifting towards the geometric. He tssked at the fraying hem around her waist before shaking his head and taking a step back, laughing and giving Hanna a sheepish smile.

He pulled away as suddenly as he had rushed at her.

“Sorry, I should have asked first,” he said quickly, his smile pulling to one side apologetically. Hanna had a sneaking suspicion that he was looking over the rest of her clothes, but he did so with a little more distaste than he did her jacket. Then suddenly, the muscles on his face relaxed and he grinned at her again. “I'm Barry, by the way.”

“Oh, hi.” Hanna stood awkwardly by the window, glad that the breeze coming in was cooling her increasingly warm face. His blue eyes seemed to be watching her expectantly and she felt her face go even redder, realizing what he was waiting for. “I'm Hanna.”

Barry took one of her hands in both of his and shook her hand warmly, glancing back at Dr. Fletcher's office door. “You must be here to see Dr. Fletcher too?”

Hanna nodded, her anxiety from her first appointment mingling oddly with the shock and amusement of meeting this man. His bright teeth flashed in another wide smile.

“You're going to love her, she's like a mother to us.”

Hanna wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she smiled again and struggled to find anything to say to break the awkward silence that had fallen.

“I-uh, I can't wait to meet her,” Hanna said slowly, unsure whether her voice was able to cover up how nervous she really was. By his smile, she figured she had done well enough.

“Well, it was nice to meet you but I've got to get going,” Barry said with a long-suffering sigh, taking a beanie out of his pocket and pulling it over his head. “Lots of designs to go over, and I really want to get into more geometric angles today...,” he trailed off. He pointed again at her jacket before turning and descending the spiral steps with an energetic skip to his step.

Hanna adjusted the scarf around her neck, her face still feeling warm and her stomach still in knots. She turned back to the window, stepping closer and taking a moment to enjoy the colder air coming in. He had been quite a character, but what he had said about her new therapist did do a little bit to ease the butterflies in her stomach...even if it was just a little bit.

The door Barry had come out of – Dr. Fletcher's office – creaked opened again and a woman's heels slicked on the floor as she stepped into the waiting room. The therapist looked almost exactly like the pictures on Google...perhaps a year or two older but she greeted Hanna with that same smile that she had seen on her computer. Warm, kind...very grandmotherly.

“You must be Hanna Moreau,” Dr. Fletcher said, stepping around the coffee table and coming to shake Hanna's hand. Hers was far more professional and fleeting than Barry's had been. “I'm very glad Dr. Markas was able to get in touch with me. I've been looking forward to taking on new patients for some time now.”

Hanna followed the woman into her office, scanning the new room as Dr. Fletcher stepped behind her desk and opened a few drawers.

It was a bit smaller, but more decorated and lived in than the waiting area. Potted plants and various old and modern art fixtures and paintings were placed intermittently around her office. Hanna's eyes skimmed over them quickly, taking a moment longer on some of the more abstract works of art on the wall.

She was aware of Dr. Fletcher moving over to a worn but comfortable looking chair and by the way the room was set up, Hanna was sure that the couch opposite the doctor was meant for her.

“So since this is our first session, I don't want you to feel like you need to dive right into topics that you aren't comfortable with yet,” Dr. Fletcher said carefully, though Hanna noticed the small notepad perched on her knee and the pen balanced on the arm of the chair. She was ready to take notes.

Hanna tried to give a quick smile to the woman to show that she had heard her words, but she struggled to find anything of substance to say.

“What do you think about this change?” Dr. Fletcher asked after a moment, and when Hanna felt her gaze, she slowly crossed the room and took the seat opposite the doctor.

“It's okay, I guess,” Hanna said, adjusting her skirt and scarf as she settled onto the couch.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

Hanna found herself looking around the room again, struggling to find anything to talk about.

“What kind of patients do you normally work with?” she finally asked, the question coming to her suddenly as she remembered reading about Dr. Fletcher's work online.

“Well, in the past I have been only taking patients that suffer from Dissociative Identity Disorder; where a patient has several personality identities,” Dr. Fletcher added quickly. Hanna nodded, deciding to not tell this new doctor that she had already done quite a bit of reading up on her. It only felt fair that Hanna had some information on this new person too, seeing as all of her information had been transferred over.

“I don't have DID,” Hanna said, wondering briefly whether this was the reason that Dr. Markas had sent her away. Did he think she may be suffering from this?

“I know that,” Dr. Fletcher said firmly. “I've recently opened up my practice to other patients, though I feel I often work best with people who have suffered a trauma.”

“You think I've suffered a trauma?”

“Haven't you?” Dr. Fletcher asked, her question probing but her smile kind. She leaned back into her chair and her eyes seemed to be watching every shift that Hanna made.

Hanna didn't answer right away, instead looking over to the desk in the corner. Her file sat atop the envelope that Dr. Markas had sent over, the familiar envelope cut cleanly on one side. “You already read about it though, didn't you? Isn't that all you need to know in there?”

“Reading about things of this nature are different than talking about them. I would like to talk about it, but only when you're comfortable.”

“And if I'm not?” Hanna asked, feeling as if she were some sort of frog spread out on a biologists lab table. The idea that she was some commodity to be poked at turned her stomach, and being watched under a microscope was far from appealing.

“Then we can just sit here and talk about the weather, if you'd like,” Dr. Fletcher said with a smile.

Hanna shifted in her seat. That didn't sound any better than talking about her “trauma”, but Hanna was suspecting that any conversation in the office would feel like an interrogation.

“Do you want to talk about the weather, Hanna?” Dr. Fletcher asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Not particularly,” Hanna said after a moment.

“Then why don't we start with this instead,” Dr. Fletcher said, adjusting the notepad on her knee. “Why don't you tell me something about yourself. Something I wouldn't know from reading your file.” She pointed with her pen over her shoulder to her desk; to Hanna's information.

Hanna worked her lip between her teeth before realizing that Dr. Fletcher was watching. Would she write that down? Would small things like her nervous lip biting make their way into a new file with her name on it?

“I don't really know how to answer that,” Hanna answered honestly after a long moment.

Dr. Fletcher nodded. “Fair enough, it is hard to jump into conversations about ourselves. Can we start with your hobbies? What do you like to do when you're not at work?”

Hanna let out a long breath and tucked her hair behind her ear, hoping that the therapist watching her every move didn't notice her hand shaking.

It was going to be a very long hour.

 


	2. Chapter Two

Time felt like it went by in a haze for Hanna.

She woke up, ate toast, went to work, came home, ate toast, and went to sleep. Then woke up and did it all again. It felt like it went on over and over for weeks...or maybe even months. Hanna stood in front of the calendar pinned to the wall, hair still dripping onto her bare shoulders and wrapped tightly in a towel.

With a sigh, Hanna rubbed her forehead. It had only been one week.

Having the day off, she had been able to sleep in before forcing herself to take a proper shower. It wasn't until Hanna was standing in front of her closet that she realized it was almost completely empty.

A large winter coat hung in the corner and a pair of snow boots were on the floor. A single tank top – bright yellow and not particularly her favorite color – hung in the center on a wire hanger.

Taking a step back, Hanna looked down at the floor of her small studio apartment. From the bed, to the chairs at the kitchen island, to the small desk shoved into the corner...clothes, towels, dish rags, and all of her various possessions littered the place. The empty floor of her closet had been one of the few places in her apartment that she could clearly see the dull tan carpet.

Hanna grabbed a pair of dirty jeans off the floor and put them on, deciding against any underwear after searching through the dirty clothes and finding nothing that she could bring herself to re-wear. She returned to the closet with the towel still wrapped around her chest and gave the bright yellow tank top a long look before taking it off the hanger and throwing it on, tossing the wet towel into the corner after wringing out her hair one last time.

Stepping around to the two-seated couch that she had managed to fit into the tiny room, Hanna knelt down and greeted the large ball of orange fur. With a mew, the cat's head jerked up and he stretched his front paws.

“Morning, Big Ben,” Hanna greeted. “Ready for some breakfast?”

Slowly, the orange tabby stood and stretched some more before jumping onto the floor with a loud thud, following Hanna across the room to where the kitchen was tucked into the corner next to the front door. He sat beside the small mat on the floor and sniffed the empty food bowl.

“Oh, or maybe brunch,” Hanna corrected herself when she caught a glimpse of the clock on the stove top.

Cracking open a can of wet food, Hanna filled Big Ben's bowl and carefully placed the empty can on the already over-flowing garbage. She took a second to watch the large cat settle in and eat his breakfast, a purr occasionally broken up by loud gulps.

Hanna threw her hair up into a quick ponytail and rested her hands on her hips, taking in the mess that she had been living in for the last week. Clothes, blankets, empty coffee mugs, plates, magazines and newspapers littered almost every flat surface in the studio apartment. This was not the biggest mess Hanna had ever made, but it did still look like a small storm had passed through and she was embarrassed to say that she hadn't really noticed it until that morning.

God...she looked like a hoarder.

Hanna stepped over to the sofa, avoiding the small pile of plates on the floor beside it and grabbing the blanket that Big Ben had turned into his own little cat bed. Giving it a quick smell, Hanna recoiled at the strong scent of cat on the warm fabric.

Throwing the fur-covered thing into the corner, Hanna took another look around her apartment.

With a sigh she hoisted up her jeans and felt a surge of determination. Moving around the small studio she started gathering up the dirty washcloths and various shirts and clothes that were strewn across the floor. Each article got a quick glance over before being tossed over into the corner with Big Ben's dirty blanket.

By the time she was done, the pile in the corner looked almost as big as the sofa.

Hanna looked around the apartment now that a bulk of the clutter had been moved into one pile. There was quite a bit more to clean, but it was a start. Hanna stepped into the tiny kitchen and rummaged through the drawers.

Big Ben sat up from his food bowl, taking a moment to lick his whiskers before slowly moving to the pile of clothes in the corner and sniffing around them.

“I know it's here somewhere,” Hanna mumbled to herself, sighing when she found the bag of change tucked under various items in the junk drawer. Tossing the bag onto the counter, she found the jug of laundry detergent and a few spare garbage bags under the sink.

Setting the heavy jug down with a thud, Hanna went to work on gathering the pile of clothes and blankets into garbage bags to take down to the laundry. Big Ben jumped away when she grabbed a sweater that he had been smelling and he jogged over to the couch, jumping up and curling back up on his (now blanket-less) corner.

Glancing again at the clock on the stove, Hanna found one of her lighter scarves and wrapped it around her neck, adjusting it before hoisting one of the garbage bags onto her hip and grabbing the detergent and bag of change. With her pinky, she hooked a ring on her keys and worked them into the front pocket of her jeans before maneuvering through the front door.

She would probably have enough time to do one load of laundry and the rest would have to wait until after her second appointment with Dr. Fletcher...at least this way she would have something decent to wear.

Hanna jogged down the narrow staircase quickly, the bag of dirty clothes bouncing on her hip awkwardly but she made it down to the small laundry room in the cold basement quickly enough. She took a moment to shake the clothes out of the bag and into the washer, and dumped an estimated amount of soap over them all. Having picked the settings and put her quarters in, Hanna left the basement and shut the door behind her with a quiet click.

Coming back up the stairs on her way to her apartment, Hanna turned the corner at the top of the staircase to see a familiar man knocking on her door. He had a kind smile, was a little bit shorter than Hanna, and the hair on his head seemed to be moving to the hair on his arms.

“Hi Mr. Franklin,” Hanna greeted, adjusting the jug of laundry detergent over to her other hand.

“There you are! Was just going to check back to see if that sink was fixed,” he said. His deep Russian accent had made their first few conversations difficult, but Hanna was getting used to it and could understand him easier now.

“Oh, yeah! The guy came last week and fixed it,” Hanna said with a smile. “Only took a few minutes.”

“Great! Great! I called a few days ago but you didn't answer. I just wanted to follow up. Glad to hear it was taken care of.”

“Thanks again,” Hanna said as the large man passed Hanna and disappeared down the stairs.

Digging in the front pocket of her jeans for her keys, Hanna went into her apartment and set the jug on the small kitchen island. Searching through her purse on the counter, Hanna finally found her phone and decided to check the messages if she had missed Mr. Franklin's.

Punching in a few numbers, Hanna waited for the first message to start.

“ _Hi Han! It's your mom, just calling to see how you were doing.”_ Her mother's voice trailed off at the end before the options to save or delete started playing in that weird automated voice. Hanna quickly hit the delete button.

“ _Hello Miss Moreau, this is Mr. Franklin. I am your landlord. I want to know if your sink has been fixed. Thank you._ ” Hanna smiled at the man's words – every message always reminded her of who he was – but she hit the delete button too.

“ _End of messages._ ”

Putting her phone back into her purse, Hanna ran her fingers through her barely-damp hair.

Big Ben had settled back into his corner of the couch and had morphed back into a round ball of orange fur, occasionally twitching in his sleep. Smiling at the little cat, Hanna's eyes were drawn from the now-clean floor to the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, Hanna willed herself to maintain her surprisingly high energy-levels that she had woken up with and started on the dishes.

* * *

Hanna had managed to finish cleaning her kitchen, dry the load of laundry and find a presentable pair of slacks and a sweater to wear to her appointment with Dr. Fletcher. Each tick of the clock made her more and more nervous, but keeping her hands busy with cleaning helped to keep her calm. Hanna had also come across one of her favorite red scarves in the laundry when she brought it all back up to her apartment.

Wrapping the lightweight fabric around her neck and grabbing her keys and purse, Hanna made her way to Dr. Fletcher's office, ending up earlier than she had planned once again even though the bus was running a few minutes late. This time instead of wandering around the room Hanna decided to just sit on the couch until her appointment time.

The window behind her was open again, the curtains shifting with the cool breeze that was just on the verge of being too cold. The building was extremely quiet aside from the shift of the fabric and she could hear mumbles from Dr. Fletcher's office. It put Hanna at ease – at least a tiny tiny fraction of a bit – to know that someone sitting in the waiting room couldn't hear their conversations inside.

Hanna crossed her legs and pulled the sleeve of her dark gray sweater over her hand, picking small pieces of lint off the soft fabric until she heard a familiar voice inside Dr. Fletcher's office grow louder. The door creaked open and Hanna let go of her sleeve.

“Same time next week, doctor?” Barry's loud boisterous voice filled the waiting room and Hanna felt a surge of sudden nervousness when he turned and his bright blue eyes landed on her. “Hello again!”

“Hi,” Hanna said, feeling like her voice was a mouse next to his.

“I still feel bad about last week,” he said quickly, stepping around the coffee table to sit next to Hanna on the couch. “About grabbing your jacket. I promise, hands to myself from now on.” He laced his fingers and placed his hands in his lap, a small smile tugging his mouth to one side.

“Oh, it's okay,” Hanna said, though she was thankful that he wasn't going to be grabbing her clothes again. She wasn't used to strangers being that forward with her.

“I realized after I left that I probably made you super uncomfortable and I didn't mean to at all.”

“No, it was-”

“Really,” Barry said quickly, leaning forward just a touch before he seemed to realize something and leaned back away. “I feel bad. But I think I have a way to make it up you.”

At that, Hanna raised her eyebrows. “And what's that?”

“A museum is putting on an art exhibit this weekend,” Barry said, unable to contain the large toothy grin. “I promise, hands to myself.” He held up his hands in the air proudly, still clasped together.

“I haven't ever been to one,” Hanna said, trying to imagine herself walking around a room of people. The idea of a large group of people was not appealing to Hanna, but they would be looking at the walls of paintings. She could see herself standing a little to the back and maybe enjoying the art.

“ _If you can see yourself...even just_ maybe _having fun, Hanna. I want you to push yourself. Inch out of your comfort zone.”_

Dr. Markas' words replayed in her head – Hanna figured they always would be. Comforting, firm, encouraging...it was the reason that Hanna was able to find a job she could hold down.

“Never?” Barry asked, breaking Hanna's thoughts away from her old therapists encouraging words. He was watching Hanna with a look of bewilderment, eyebrows raised almost to where his hairline would have been if he wasn't bald. He was still smiling – he was always smiling, Hanna noticed – even when he was looking at her in bafflement. “It's settled, you're going. Are you working? Doesn't matter, you're going.”

Hanna chuckled at his excitement, his bright eyes lighting up and he went into a chatter of different artists that were expected to be there and who was sending in their art from out-of-state. She nodded every few sentences, but the names and places all made no sense to her.

“Oh, do you have a phone?” Barry asked, reaching over to a tiny table beside the couch and grabbing one of Dr. Fletcher's business cards. From one of the large pockets in his trench coat, he found a pen. “I can text you the address. It starts at 5.”

He pushed the pen and card into Hanna's hands, withdrawing his quickly; Hanna did appreciate how he seemed to be trying very hard to keep his hands to himself.

“Sure,” Hanna said, jotting her cellphone number down on the back of the card and writing her name next to it. She handed it back and he glanced at it before putting it in his pocket.

“I'll get the address to you tonight,” he said, grinning widely at her once more before standing. Fishing around in his pocket, he found a beanie and a pair of black gloves, throwing them on before giving Hanna a little salute goodbye.

Just as he started down the stairs, the door to Dr. Fletcher's office creaked open.

“Hello, Hanna. I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long.” The woman stepped to the side so Hanna could come into her office before shutting the door behind them. Her office was nice and warm in comparison to the waiting room. “Chocolate?”

Dr. Fletcher motioned to a bowl of chocolate on the table that separated their seats but Hanna shook her head, pushing her hands into her pockets and looking around the room. There were several pieces of papers scattered across the therapist's desk, but other than that the room looked exactly the same.

“You seem like you're in a good mood today,” Dr. Fletcher commented right as she sat down in her comfortable chair.

“I am,” Hanna said lightly, coming to stop at one of the large paintings near the window. This large abstract piece had drawn her eye during their first session too, lots of red and blue smeared across a white canvas. She admired it for a moment before turning back to Dr. Fletcher.

“So how has this last week been?” the therapist asked. Hanna was aware of the pen and notepad on her lap.

“It was...the usual,” Hanna said after a thought. “Work, mostly.”

“And you work as a delivery driver, right?” Dr. Fletcher asked. Hanna's stomach felt like it did a flip – she hadn't mentioned that in their last appointment, so it was a bit of information she had gathered from the file Dr. Markas had sent over.

Trying not to skip a beat, Hanna nodded and forced a small smile. “Yeah, for a while now.”

“Full time?” Hanna nodded and moved to the other side of the window, briefly admiring a very old looking portrait of a park. “Do you have a favorite painting?”

Hanna's head jerked back to the therapist on the couch who seemed to have been watching her with a somewhat amused smile. She was taken aback by the sudden shift in topics, having expected the woman to continue to push the conversation to the “trauma” that they had skirted around on their last appointment.

“I noticed you like to walk around and look at them,” Dr. Fletcher said with a small shrug of her shoulder. She motioned to the park painting that Hanna was standing in front of. “What do you think of that one?”

Hanna took a second to look over the painting again. “It's kinda boring.”

“You like the more wild and abstract?”

Hanna nodded, stepping back to the painting that continued to draw her eye; the red and blue abstract one surrounded by an unflattering bronze frame. “I like this one.”

“That was done by a French abstract artist,” Dr. Fletcher said, tapping the end of her pen against her chin as she thought hard for a moment. “Robert...Delaunay,” she said finally.

Hanna nodded, not surprised that she didn't recognize the name with her very limited knowledge of painters or artists. But the splashes of color drew her eye every time she came into the office, and it was far more pleasing for her to look at than the others that just looked old.

“Barry wants me to go to an art exhibit at a museum this weekend, with him,” Hanna added, taking a quick glance at the therapist.

Dr. Fletcher crossed her legs and shifted her weight in the chair. “If there is ever anybody to talk to about art, it is going to be that man.”

“He seems to really know his stuff,” Hanna said, turning away from her favorite painting and coming around to sit at the couch opposite Dr. Fletcher.

“Do you go out to things like that often? Art exhibits, museums, festivals....”

Hanna shook her head. She had a faint memory of her parents taking her to a museum, but as a small child she had found everything to be extremely boring.

“What about things like theater? Movies?”

Again, Hanna shook her head.

“If you don't mind my asking, aside from work, when you leave your house where do you often go?” Dr. Fletcher adjusted the pad of paper on her knee.

“I have to go get groceries once a week,” Hanna said slowly after giving the doctor's question some thought. “The pet store, sometimes, if my cat needs a toy or something.”

“You have a cat?” The woman's eyebrows rose just a fraction of an inch, and Hanna noticed her hand inching closer to the pad of paper and with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized that Dr. Fletcher had already been writing something down.

Something about this woman making notes about her life set Hanna on edge. The familiar discomfort and nervousness that she had felt during their first appointment came flooding back; once more, she was some small object being studied by a scientist. Being dissected and inspected never sat well with her.

Hanna took a slow, deep breath, willing the anxiety she suddenly felt to go away as Dr. Fletcher's pen started scratching on the paper again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has had such nice things to say, it is really encouraging and I love reading each and every comment. I hope you guys enjoyed this second chapter. :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Is this Hanna?**

_Yes_

**It's Barry! So here is the address for the art exhibit: 6498 East Maplewood Ave**

_Thank you_

_Is it formal or casual dress?_

**Casual is fine! Meet me there at 5?**

_Yeah, see you then._

* * *

 

 

Hanna glanced at her phone for the tenth time since she had hopped on the city bus; re-reading the address and time. She was early but she would rather be early than be late especially when someone was expecting her.

“Excuse me,” someone said, drawing Hanna's attention away from her phone to see a man motioning to the empty window seat beside her. Pulling her knees to the side, Hanna let the man have the empty seat with a nod.

Flipping her phone open again Hanna checked the time.

It had been so long since she had left her apartment without a plan to go straight to her appointment, to the grocery store, to work, or to the occasional vet visit for Big Ben. None of them required her to dress up or even caused her to worry about whether she would be over or under dressed. The unfamiliarity of what she was going to left her feeling uneasy, anxious, and a little excited?

With a small smile, she closed her phone and put it back in her purse.

Hanna had spent an unusual amount of time searching through her closet, trying to picture what “casual” would look like for an art exhibition. She had never been to one in her life, and the ones she had seen on TV looked over the top, with famous people walking around in large ballgowns and sipping champagne. But Barry had said casual so she settled on a pair of gray slacks, a green top and a soft gray scarf. Hanna just hoped she wasn't going to be under-dressed, but she figured if she was she could always keep her large overcoat on.

“Geneva Street,” the bus driver called out. Before Hanna could reach over to pull the string a loud _ding_ echoed through the bus and the driver slowly started to pull over. Adjusting her purse over her shoulder, Hanna stood and followed a few other people who were getting off the bus with her.

The wind had picked up and Hanna's scarf blew in her face as soon as her feet hit the pavement. Pulling it down and out of her face, Hanna quickly moved away from the bus stop and next to a large brick building that helped to shelter her from the gusts briefly. Zipping up her jacket and shoving her hands into her pockets, she braced herself against the wind and took quick steps down the block to where the large museum was perched on the corner.

Right outside of the front door, next to the large sign and directory, Hanna recognized Barry immediately; gray beanie pulled over his head and a bright red shirt peaking out from under his jacket. Checking for cars, Hanna quickly made her way across the street. A few other people were making their way into the museum and Barry stepped forward to open the door for them, grinning and telling them something before letting the door swing shut behind them. His smile widened when he turned and saw Hanna coming closer, a hand holding her scarf in place and the other holding onto her purse.

“Hey, you made it!” Barry said, his voice loud and spirited. He took a step forward and reached his arms up before he seemed to realize something and shoved his hands back into the pockets of his pants. “Sorry, sorry! Hands to myself. Well, come on in!” Barry threw open the door and made a wide gesture for her to go first. “Welcome to your very first art exhibit,” he said, taking off his hat and stuffing it into his jacket.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Hanna said, glancing around at the old museum. A few documents were locked up in a case along one wall, looking as if they would fall apart at a single touch. The statues that were scattered around the entryway looked equally as old, though obviously they aged a lot better. A large ticket booth stood along one wall and before Hanna could move to get in the small line of people Barry pulled out two small tickets.

“Already got that taken care of.” Hanna could have sworn she saw a very flirty smirk on Barry's face as nodded his head towards the entrance past the ticket booths where a man dressed in black was letting people in. Handing over both tickets, Barry jumped in front of Hanna suddenly and threw an arm dramatically to the side, exposing several walls filled with paintings. “Welcome, to your first art exhibition!”

“ _SHHHHHH!_ Keep it down!!” An elderly woman hissed, storming up to Barry. The top of her snow-white hair barely reached his shoulder but she glared up at the larger man fearlessly anyway, and Hanna bit her lip, trying hard to look innocent when the woman glowered at Hanna next.

“Sorry, sorry,” Barry said in a hushed whisper, bringing his hands up in a gesture of surrender. The woman fixed him one sharp glare before turning sharply and leaving them at the entrance. Hanna covered her mouth and tried to keep herself from laughing when Barry slowly turned back to her, his bright blue eyes wide as he mouthed a slow 'wow'.

“So we should start over here and work our way around,” Barry whispered over-dramatically, motioning to one wall of brightly colored canvases and taking slow tip-toed steps until they were a good distance away from the old woman. “Our first piece of the night, _Charmed Dreams_ ,” Barry said, looking closely at the small piece of paper below the brightly colored canvas.

“I could never understand how they pick a name for these kinds of paintings,” Hanna confessed, looking over the almost neon colors. It was beautiful, far better than anything Hanna could do with a paintbrush, but she would never be able to guess what the painter had named it.

“Depends on the artist,” Barry said, crossed his arms and looking over the piece closely. His eyebrows came together and he squinted his eyes. “I read an article where a painter said he writes random words on a piece of paper, puts them all in a hat, and draws two or three pieces of paper to pick a name for each of his paintings.”

“That's...a very literal version of what I was thinking,” Hanna said, her smile growing when Barry lead her to the next piece and rolled his eyes. He seemed to try and give it a chance, looking over it again but he let out a short breath and turned to whisper to Hanna.

“Like we don't see this on every wall in a doctor's office, right?” He scoffed and threw a hand back, dismissing that rather bland abstract painting quickly and moving them along to the next; a dark canvas scattered with light blue blotches that he seemed to approve of. A few people moved around them, chatting quietly and Hanna racked her brain for something to talk about.

“So why are you seeing Dr. Fletcher?” As soon as the words left her mouth Hanna realized how rude and personal that was to ask. “Oh, no, I didn't really mean for it to come out like-”

“No, that's fine,” Barry said with a shrug of his shoulder, his bright blue eyes flickering between the painting in front of them and Hanna. The two moved onto the next piece, a smaller painting of possibly blue trees – she wasn't entirely sure. “We've been working with Dr. Fletcher for a few years now, she's really helped us to figure out...everything, really. It was a hard time for us for years before anyone really acknowledged us.”

Hanna nodded, glancing up at Barry. He was staring intently at the painting, brows drawn together and his eyes squinting before his entire face relaxed back into a smile. So he was one of Dr. Fletcher's original patients...a patient with DID, if Hanna remembered her research/stalking of the doctor before their appointment. So that meant, for someone like Barry, “we” could mean-

“Do you mind if I ask you that?”

“Ask me what?” Hanna asked, his voice pulling her out of her own thoughts.

“Why you're seeing Dr. Fletcher. If you don't want to talk about it we don't have to-”

“No, it's okay. I did ask you that first,” Hanna said as the two moved onto the next piece. “Oh, I like this one.” They stopped in front of a very small canvas, dashed with reds and browns and yellows. “I...I guess I kind of went through a hard time too. I went through something when I was younger and had a hard time dealing with it. My old therapist wanted me to come and see Dr. Fletcher when she expanded her practice, so.....”

Hanna glanced quickly up at Barry, but he was still studying the artwork on the wall with that same look of intense concentration. Something about saying those words to Dr. Fletcher – ready to write everything down and make her notes to add to her ever increasing file – felt wrong on every level. But there, standing in an art exhibit for the first time with this very odd but very kind man didn't feel so bad.

“I'm sorry to hear that. But Dr. Fletcher is amazing, I really hope she helps you work through it,” Barry said, the tension breaking as he turned to look down at Hanna. He gave her a small smile, not the toothy grin or flirty smirk, but a genuine smile. It was a huge relief from what Hanna was expecting and dreading; pity. “I think this one is my favorite from this painter,” Barry said, leaning down to Hanna and pointing over to the final piece on the wall, almost tucked into the corner.

Hanna stepped closer to the painting and looked it over. It was dark blue and gray, almost like waves in a storm with splashes of white like the foam caps. “Wow.”

“I still can't believe you have never been to an art exhibit,” Barry said absentmindedly, shaking his head and glancing around at the other guests.

“I don't like to go out much,” Hanna confessed.

“What about to a fashion walk?” Barry asked as they moved onto another wall of work.

“Nope, I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff,” Hanna added quickly when she saw Barry's jaw drop out of the corner of her eye.

“Well you will when you experience the true art of fashion,” he said, his face looking like he may have smelled something terrible when he looked at one of the larger pieces on the wall. Hanna thought it didn't look too bad but she let Barry lead her to the next piece.

“What about theater?” Barry asked slowly, his thumb pressed against his lower lip as he inspected the next piece closely.

“Like what kind?”

“Like any kind,” he said, his voice teasing but his smile playful.

“Nope.”

“Then why did you ask what kind?” Barry asked with a quick laugh, pulling away from the wall and turning back to Hanna who shrugged. “What about the zoo?”

“Nope,” Hanna said again and at that Barry's head whipped around.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I can,” Hanna said, glancing around at the other guests but none seemed to mind their conversation, and the harsh little woman who had shushed them before was nowhere to be seen.

“But you live in the city right?”

Hanna mumbled a yes, skipping right over the next piece on the wall for the one beyond it, a bright orange canvas with swirls of a deep blue. It drew her eye, looking more like an optical illusion than just a painting.

“How have you never gone to the zoo?” Hanna felt his eyes on her.

“I just...haven't,” Hanna said, shrugging one shoulder. “Like I said, I don't like to go out much.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Barry demanded, following Hanna to the next piece on the wall.

“What?”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Barry repeated, grinning at Hanna's almost wary expression. “You are going to the zoo.”

“Tomorrow's Sunday, won't it be crowded?” Hanna had been working on getting better with rooms full of people, but the idea of a zoo with screaming kids and knocking shoulders with crowds of people set her on edge.

“We can go after hours if the crowds are a problem.”

“So break into the zoo?” Hanna asked, her eyebrows raised and while she wanted to appear stern on the subject his smile was contagious.

“No, we don't have to break in at all. I live there.”

“You live in a zoo? Sure,” Hanna said with a chuckle, rolling her eyes and trying to picture Barry living amongst the lemurs or maybe the monkeys.

“I do! You're looking at their maintenance man,” Barry said, opening his arms as a grand introduction. “So I can definitely get us in _without_ breaking and entering. Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yes...and security is okay with their maintenance man giving after-hour tours?”

“I'll talk to him,” Barry said, shrugging a shoulder and giving her a 'don't worry about it' look.

“You're serious, aren't you?”

“What time do you get off of work?” Barry asked, motioning for them to move onto the next piece. Hanna honestly hadn't been looking at the last few they stood in front of.

“Six. You're serious?” Hanna asked.

“Absolutely. If you go around the left side of the entrance there's a gate that says 'no public access'. Text me when you're leaving your place and I'll meet you there at the gate.”

“Wow, well...thank you,” Hanna said, feeling at a loss for words. “I should be there by seven thirty or eight.”

“Sounds great,” Barry said, fixing Hanna with a large toothy grin before motioning for her to move to the next piece. “Now _this_ is a load of crap,” he said under his breath while a young couple ooh'd and awe'd at it, his face contorting like he was in pain at the very sight of it. Hanna laughed, watching as he continued to make dramatic expressions to show his disapproval.

* * *

 

After their visit to the art exhibit, Hanna spent that night and the following morning thinking about the zoo. She had seen pictures of zoos, sure. Lots of movies and TV shows and magazines gave her an idea of what it would look like but to actually see the animals up close was something Hanna had never thought of doing. Well, she had thought about it, but then her mind would go to the idea of crowds of people pushing around her to get a closer look and that was the end of those thoughts for her.

Hanna wasn't even entirely sure what animals the Philedalphia Zoo had, but she really hoped they would have a tiger.

“Maybe I'll see a small version of you,” Hanna said, poking a finger at Big Ben's exposed belly (big enough to earn him the name) as the orange tabby lay sprawled out on his blanket, taking up almost half of the small couch. With a chirp he lifted his head and blinked at Hanna, a low purr rumbling from his chest when she scratched behind his ear. “Alright buddy, I'll be back before you know it.”

Hanna finished putting on her boots and jacket, making sure she had her phone, wallet, and keys in her purse before throwing that over her shoulder.

“I know,” she said, fixing her cat with a surprised expression. “ _Two_ days in a row. What are you gonna do without me?”

Big Ben blinked a few more times before stretching his front legs and curling up into a tight ball.

“Lazy bum,” Hanna muttered, giving him a final pet before turning off the lights and locking up her apartment.

The night was surprisingly warm compared to the last week of chilly weather and thankfully the wind from yesterday had died down. Grabbing her phone, Hanna quickly sent off a text to Barry letting him know that she was on her way before leaving the entryway to her building and going to the bus stop across the street. The wait was fairly short before the loud bus came around the corner and picked her up.

Hanna kept glancing at her phone on the bus, expecting to get some sort of confirmation text from Barry and hoping that he hadn't forgotten about it. But the entire bus ride there – which felt longer than it really was as Hanna kept checking the time and for messages – was quiet, the only noise coming from a group of younger kids near the back of the bus.

Finally the bus stopped at the zoo and Hanna got off, already spotting the gate that Barry had told her about with the 'no public access' sign. The entrance to the zoo was huge and empty, large statues of animals, signs and promotional posters hung up on every pole, and large bushes shaped to look like fish scattered around the empty area. The ticket booths encased in bars were dark inside and Hanna briefly wondered if it would be noticeable to people passing by that she was sneaking in when it was so obviously closed.

A quick look back to the street confirmed that she was entirely alone, and Hanna quickened her steps to the gate. She peered through the bars to see a shadowy path and waited for a few minutes, checking behind her to make sure that no one was watching. The occasional car passed by, but the sound of footsteps drew her attention back to the gate where a figure was moving quickly towards her.

For a moment Hanna felt her heart jump up into her throat; the person was crouched low to the ground, hugging the shadowy side of the path...she had been expecting Barry to be as loud and confident as he had been when he had thrown his arms opened and nearly yelled her welcome at the art exhibit. But a bit of light caught his shaved head and Hanna recognized that wide grin. She willed herself to calm back down.

“Hey Barry,” Hanna said when he got closer to the gate. She heard him mutter something as he stopped suddenly and turned to look behind him as if he were being followed. Hanna felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on ends. Didn't he say he would talk to security? Before Hanna could wonder whether this was a good idea or not he turned back to her.

“Hi, hi!” Barry whispered excitedly and grabbing the bars. He pulled his body close to the gate and through the brighter light Hanna could see an exhilarated smile spreading across his face. “Barry can't come to the door right now.”

“What?” Hanna asked slowly, watching as his head jerked around to check behind him again.

“Barry can't come to the light right now,” he whispered, his smile smaller now but still tugging the corners of his mouth as he looked over Hanna quickly. “I'm not supposed to be out here.”

“W-what's your name?” Hanna asked slowly, keeping her voice quiet to match his.

“My name's Hedwig.” Another smile, wider and more excited than Barry's had been appeared on his face. “You must be Hanna.”

Hanna simply nodded, watching as he turned to look behind him again. So this was one of his other personalities; he seemed jumpy and spoke with a lisp...a sharp contrast to the very talkative and confident one she had gone to the art exhibit with. Hanna suddenly wished she had done more reading on DID when she had been researching Dr. Fletcher's practice.

“I wasn't supposed to come out here but I saw the texts. Barry left his phone on the table and I saw it so I wanted to see what it was like to talk on it but I didn't actually call anyone. Please don't tell Barry I looked.” Hedwig's voice trailed off as he looked down at Hanna, his bright blue eyes begging.

“I won't tell him,” Hanna said, her voice barely above a whisper as this man that she had just seen the night before crouched low, his hands sliding down the bars. “Are you looking for someone?” she asked when he looked behind him again.

“I'm not supposed to be here,” he said again, his voice a harsh whisper and the smile gone from his face. For a moment, he pressed his forehead against a small space between the bars and he looked around behind Hanna. “You can't tell Mr. Dennis or Miss Patricia that I came out here. I'm not supposed to leave.”

Again, Hanna shook her head quickly. “No, no, I won't tell them.” At that, his face seemed to relax a little bit. “I can text Barry later and we can pick a different time to go around the zoo.”

Hedwig looked disappointed for a moment before glancing over his shoulder again. “Okay. But don't tell Mr. Dennis or Miss Patricia that I came here. I'm not supposed to be here.” Hanna nodded again, watching as Hedwig straightened up. He still stood almost a head taller than Hanna but something about the expression on his face made him appear child-like. Another wide grin tore across his face as he let out a loud breath. “O-okay, I need to go now. Bye.”

His hand shot up in a quick wave before he turned his back on Hanna, keeping low and close to the shadows until he disappeared around the corner. Hanna stared off after him; thrown by the stark differences in the two people she had seen in as many days.

They would have to put off their tour of the zoo until Hanna could figure out how to talk to Barry. She had to admit she had been excited to see the animals and was a little disappointed, but was curious about the other names Hedwig had mentioned.

Just how many of them were there?

 


	4. Chapter 4

A jarring noise brought Hanna sharply out of her sleep. Throwing her hands out in front of her, she frantically clawed at the cocoon of blankets around her before jumping to her feet and rushing over to the counter. The phone's sharp ring got louder as Hanna pulled open her purse and grabbed it, recognizing the name on the caller ID before answering.

“Han! You didn't return my last call, I was getting a little worried.” The familiar voice was almost frantic when Hanna had answered her phone. Hanna blinked until her vision cleared and she tried to slow her breathing.

“Oh, sorry mom. I was a little busy and kind of forgot about it.” Hanna ran her fingers through her bedhead hair and Big Ben let out a soft meow from the bed.

“Well, don't worry about it. You were busy?”

Hanna glanced at the clock over the stove and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache already starting to form despite getting more than enough sleep. “Yeah, appointments, work, I went to an art exhibit-”

“An...art exhibit?”

“Yes, mom. An art exhibit. I do have the ability to leave my apartment sometimes,” Hanna said, smiling at her mother's disbelief despite her annoyance being dragged so suddenly out of bed. She moved over the one of the cupboards and found a bottle of aspirin, grabbing that and her medication.

“No, no, Han, I know that. I just haven't heard you ever talk about art before. Did you go alone?”

“No, I went with Barry. He's-”

“Barry?”

“Mom, stop interrupting. He's-”

“Sorry! Okay, go ahead.”

Hanna waited a moment, rolling her eyes before continuing when she was sure that her mom was finished. “I met him through my new therapist. He's a patient there too, I see him in the waiting room.”

There was a brief moment of silence after she said that and she knew exactly what was rushing through her mothers head. Hanna finally managed to pop the top off of the bottles with one hand and tipped a pill from each into her mouth. “Is that a good idea, Han? I mean, if he's a patient too maybe that's a conflict of interest or something.”

“I'm not his therapist. No conflict,” Hanna said simply, grabbing a banana off the counter and holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder while she pealed it.

“But-”

“Mom.” She was trying to put on a tone of confidence, though she wasn't sure if it was coming across. “I am allowed to make my own friends.”

“I'm not trying to say you can't!” her mom answered defiantly. “You should definitely makes friends, I've been telling you that, but-”

“Well it kind of sounds like you don't want me to make friends with people who need a therapist.” It may have been a low blow on her part, but Hanna was growing frustrated fast with the direction their conversation was going and the dull ache at her temples was throbbing harder. It seemed like most of their phone chats eventually went this way lately.

“Han, there is nothing wrong with needing a therapist.” Her mother spoke slowly and Hanna could tell she felt cornered. She pictured her mother running fingers through her hair, ruffling it up like she always did when Hanna was younger and the two found themselves in an awkward silence.

“Sure,” Hanna said around her mouthful of banana, drawing a big breath into her chest and releasing it slowly, trying not to let her annoyance show through in her voice. “Look mom, I need to get ready to go. My appointment is in an hour.”

“Oh, okay,” her mother spoke slowly. “Have a good night, and call me sometime! I like to know you're doing okay.”

“Okay mom, I will. Love you, bye.” Hanna hung up the phone and put it back in her purse, chucking the half-eaten banana into the garbage can and grabbing a tin of wet food for Big Ben. At the sound of the can opening the fat orange cat chirped and rushed over to the kitchen, sitting and giving her an impatient meow.

“Sorry big guy,” Hanna muttered to the cat as she emptied the can into the bowl on the floor. “I guess I slept in.”

That was a massive understatement – she only had about a half hour to get ready to leave for her afternoon appointment – but it wasn't that unusual of an occurrence. Taking a moment to just close her eyes and rub her temples, Hanna willed herself to gather the energy she had left and get dressed.

* * *

 

“I wanted to show you these,” Barry said, carefully setting the case on the desk in the corner of the office and tapping it with one finger. “I think you'll really like the direction I went with them.”

“I would love to have a look.” Dr. Fletcher shut the door behind them. Her heels clicked on the hard wood floor as she crossed the room and opened the zipper to flip the case open, seeing several large pieces of card stock stacked inside. Dr. Fletcher was very cautious as she pulled the papers out; she knew how precious the drawings were to him.

“I wanted to take a different approach,” Barry said flippantly, sitting on the couch and crossing his legs.

“I'd say,” Dr. Fletcher said, turning to look at Barry over her glasses. “This first one is far different from your last series.”

She turned back to the drawing and looked it over again, noting the deviations from the last drawings she had seen. After years, she was very familiar with his artwork.

The lines in the first piece were short and wispy – almost sketch-like – but the most striking difference was the subject. Barry's focus had always been on fashion; the models faceless and impossibly tall and thin dawned in brilliantly modern clothes. At first glance it almost looked like Barry hadn't even drawn the woman staring back at her on the paper. Shoulder-length blonde hair was almost messy, hiding half of the woman's face yet dark eyebrows peaked through. The proportions of her body was more realistic than she had ever seen in any of his drawings...but the thing that made Dr. Fletcher step back and look it over again was the scarf cascading down the woman's shoulders.

“Barry, do you notice the changes in your own drawings?” Dr. Fletcher asked slowly as she moved that piece back into the case to look at the next. The next piece was similar, but a full body drawing of a tall and slender woman, blonde hair pulled back and a high-necked jacket hiding most of her face.

“I wanted to try a different style, see how it fit.” Barry said, flashing the therapist a toothy grin when she glanced back at him. “Do you like them?”

“They're amazing,” Dr. Fletcher said and she wasn't lying. He was an incredibly talented artist, but she turned to the next piece and blinked a few times. The same wispy pencil marks drew out a face that Dr. Fletcher couldn't deny looked familiar. Gray eyes looked back at her from the paper, blonde hair messy and a small smile tugging at the lips of the woman in Barry's drawings. “Do you have a new muse, Barry?”

Setting the papers back into the case, Dr. Fletcher closed it up and came to sit across from Barry. She watched his expressions carefully as he shrugged and seemed to look around the room for an answer.

“I was inspired,” he said after a moment, his eyebrows raised up and his shoulders shrugging. “I liked the direction it was taking me.”

“The drawing or this new friendship?” At her probing question she saw Barry's eyes flutter shut for a brief moment.

“Can't it be both?” He flashed her a bright smile but there was a quick falter that Dr. Fletcher caught. Was he nervous? Or tense? It was the briefest of expressions but she couldn't recall ever seeing it before.

“Of course it can,” Dr. Fletcher said, leaning back in her chair and deciding to make a small note of these changes on her little pad of paper balanced on her knee. “Those are truly beautiful. It seems like your focus has shifted from fashion to the artistic representation of your model.”

“I wanted to give it a try – see if I could give them more of a face.”

Dr. Fletcher took a moment to watch Barry as he adjusted his jacket. His expression shifted once more and she couldn't quite read him, which was unusual. When his bright blue eyes rounded back on her she gave him an encouraging smile.

“So tell me how your week has been, besides the new drawings.”

“It's been good,” he said, a genuine smile – not quite the teeth-bearing grin he usually flashed her – slowly appearing on his face. He seemed deep in thought for a moment before shaking himself out of it. “It's just been a good week.”

* * *

 

Hanna sighed a breath of relief when she took her seat on the couch in the waiting room outside of Dr. Fletcher's office. The brief walk between going to the bus stop and down the street again to the office felt like it was too much for her exhausted muscles. The bright light from the sun made her eyes ache and her head throb even more, and every noise on the bus felt amplified and grated on her nerves.

The phone call with her mother didn't make it any better but she felt guilty as soon as she thought about it and quickly pushed it from her thoughts. Hanna would have plenty of time after her appointment with Dr. Fletcher to crawl back into bed and feel guilty.

She had done her best to smooth down her hair and when it still looked like she had clawed her way out of hell, she decided to pull it back into a ponytail instead. Hanna had managed to at least eat half a banana, wash her face, and find something halfway presentable to wear before making her way to the increasingly familiar waiting room.

Hanna hoped it would be enough to conceal her exhaustion.

Closing her eyes, Hanna rested her elbow on the arm of the couch and used her thumb to rub small circles against her forehead. It offered very little relief though, and before long the door to Dr. Fletcher's office creaked open and her head jerked up, sending another throb coursing through her.

Barry's loud voice carried into the office as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

“Hey! Sorry about last weekend, I fell asleep before I got your texts. I guess I was more tired than I thought.” Barry moved to sit beside Hanna on the couch and smiled apologetically. Hanna watched his face for a moment, looking for any sign that he knew about what had happened. Had he really not been aware of his body leaving his home, walking around, and introducing itself as Hedwig?

“Oh, it's okay,” Hanna said, trying to muster up a smile and watching Barry's face relax.

“What are you doing tonight?” A wider smile took over his face. Despite the throbbing in her head and her eyes begging her to keep them closed with every blink, Hanna found his excitement infectious.

“Sleeping,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I didn't sleep well last night so I'll probably crash pretty early. But maybe tomorrow?”

For a brief second, Barry's eyebrows furrowed and he seemed to look over Hanna's face closely; she felt a prick of annoyance. She had spent a good ten minutes mentally preparing herself to be inspected by Dr. Fletcher but she wasn't ready to be scrutinized by Barry.

As soon as the look came across Barry's face it was gone and he was grinning again, and Hanna found herself relaxing back into the couch.

“What's that?” Hanna asked, noticing the large but thin case that he had set down on the floor.

“Oh, some drawings I wanted to show Dr. Fletcher,” Barry said, brushing them off with a quick flick of his wrist. His expression looked nonchalant but Hanna could sense a bit of pride in his voice.

“You draw?” Hanna asked, eyebrows raised. “Can I see them?”

Barry was about to answer when the door opened and Dr. Fletcher's head peaked out into the room. “I'll text you?” he offered, grabbing the case and smiling when Hanna nodded.

“Are you ready?” Dr. Fletcher asked when Barry was gone and Hanna nodded again, her legs feeling heavy as she walked into the office and sat straight back down on the couch in the center of the room. The light in her office was softer and the air a little warmer. Hanna noticed the window had been closed and the curtains pulled and she was thankful for the small relief it gave her.

“So,” the doctor started, her voice light and cheerful, “how has this last week been for you?”

Hanna closed her eyes for a moment and took a slow breath. As much as she wanted to just stand up and walk straight back out that annoyingly creaky door and go back home to sleep the night away, she had to stay and talk.

“It was fine.” Hanna had tried to assemble some form of a convincing smile and light tone but by the small frown on Dr. Fletcher's face she had failed. “It was fine at first,” Hanna finally said, the smile dropping.

“When did it start to...not be fine?”

Hanna racked her memory for the events of the week. It had been amazing at first. The art exhibit with Barry had been fun, and she had understood why they couldn't go to the zoo. Very little had happened to Hanna since meeting Hedwig at the gate; work, sleep, feeding Ben, work....

“Nothing really happened,” Hanna said slowly. “I've just been tired.”

“You're taking your medication?” Dr. Fletcher asked, one eyebrow raising when Hanna nodded.

“I am,” Hanna said firmly. “I don't know why I've been tired.”

“Are you waking up a lot at night?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Are there often things you don't remember?”

“No,” Hanna said, her head throbbing again and the sound of her heartbeat grew loud in her ears. The mixture of exhaustion and irritation was mingling oddly in her stomach and for a quick second Hanna wondered if she would throw up. The feeling passed, though, and she was left sitting on the couch being watched carefully by the therapist.

“What just happened?” Dr. Fletcher asked slowly, her tone losing all of its cheerfulness and her eyebrows knitting together just above her glasses.

Hanna raised her eyebrows but when it was clear that she couldn't pass it off as nothing she sank back into the couch and closed her eyes. “I just have a migraine today.”

“Did you-”

“I already took aspirin,” Hanna interrupted.

When Dr. Fletcher went quiet Hanna concentrated on forcing her eyes open to look across the low table at the woman. She didn't look offended or mad that Hanna had been short. Instead she looked worried.

“If you want to cut this weeks appointment short, I would understand,” Dr. Fletcher finally said, her face softening into a kind smile.

Hanna watched the doctor for a moment, but the woman simply smiled and waited for a response. When she was sure it wasn't some sort of trick, Hanna nodded and grabbed her purse.

“Yeah, thank you,” she said, slowly standing and offering the best apologetic smile she could gather.

“I understand, Hanna. We all have those days.” The doctor shrugged and set her pad and pencil on her desk as she walked Hanna to the door. The brighter light of the waiting room set off another round of throbbing inside of Hanna's head and she tried hard to hide the grimace.

“Next week, right?” Dr. Fletcher asked, smiling when Hanna nodded and shutting the door behind her.

Letting out a slow breath, Hanna made her way down the steps, bringing her hand back up to her head and attempting to massage some of the pain away from her head. After a moment of unsuccessful temple-rubbing, Hanna sighed and let out a string of internal curse words when she stepped outside to the bright sunshine.

On any other day, Hanna would be thankful for the warm weather and bright sunshine. But today Hanna kept her head low and made her way quickly to the bus stop, wishing she could just teleport herself back into her warm and dark bed.

 


	5. Chapter Five

Credits started playing across the TV screen, marking the end of the fourth episode she had watched that morning and she pulled the blanket higher up to her chin. Folding her arms and pulling her knees up to her chest, Hanna adjusted the blanket around her so she wouldn't be intruding on Big Ben's designated spot next to her.

She had slept hard as soon as she had gotten home from Dr. Fletcher's office and found herself waking up late the next morning, thankfully feeling refreshed and her migraine gone. Having the day off, Hanna decided against going out for groceries like she normally would and instead finished off the last of the slightly-stale cereal in her cupboard and cuddle up on the couch for a marathon of her favorite cop show with Big Ben snoozing beside her.

A quiet _ding_ interrupted the soft music playing from the TV and Hanna searched around the folds in the blanket for where her phone was hiding. Another _ding_ sounded just as she found it and flipped it open.

**Barry: Hi Hanna, are you feeling better?**

**Barry: I'd still like to give you a tour of the zoo if you are up for it tonight.**

Smiling, Hanna typed her message back quickly.

**Hanna: Yeah, I am. And I would love to go. Just let me know when.**

The song replayed again when the next episode started and Hanna decided to reach over to poke one finger deep into the fluffy orange ball on the couch next to her. When Big Ben's head jerked up and he let out a surprised chirp Hanna smiled, smoothing his fur down and scratching under his chin. A loud purr was drowned out by the voices from the TV and Hanna pulled her hand away. In no time, Big Ben was curled back up and tucking his head under his tail again.

The _ding_ brought her attention back to her phone once more.

**Barry: Meet me at the gate at 7? Zoo closes at 5.**

**Hanna: Sounds great. See you then.**

Smiling, Hanna glanced at the small clock at the corner of her screen. She had several hours still until she would be meeting up with Barry so she set her phone on the armrest of the couch and sank back into her blankets, turning her attention back to the fifth episode of the day.

* * *

 

Stepping off of the city bus, Hanna tightened the scarf around her neck and tucked the edges back into her jacket. The night was chilly but by the look of the dark blue sky they were in luck; no rain. She waited until the bus took off around the corner before walking across the street and through the entryway to the zoo once more, the sound of her boots clicking against the concrete occasionally broken up by the sound of a car nearby or a bird.

Making her way around one of the raised flower beds, Hanna went over to the gate off to the side where the familiar 'no public access' sign was posted. She glanced through the bars down the dark pathway, feeling a wave of déjà vu as she looked over her shoulders around the empty entrance to the Philedalphia Zoo.

The bushes shaped like fish scattered around the open area; she supposed if there were crowds of people it would almost look as if they were swimming against the current of people. Flags with pictures of tigers and elephants waved lazily in the cool breeze.

At the sound of footsteps echoing, Hanna's head jerked back to the bars separating her and the shadowy figure walking down the pathway and she briefly wondered if she would come to meet Hedwig again. But this figure was walking normally...not crouched down against the building like the odd boy had been and she breathed a sigh of relief.

As he got closer, Hanna recognized that toothy grin.

“You made it,” Barry said, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and taking a moment to find the one he needed and unlocking the gate.

“Of course I did.” The sound was loud as he pulled the gate open and Hanna glanced behind her, making sure no one was watching when she stepped inside.

“Up for a tour? There's quite a bit of walking but it's really nice when it's quiet.”

“Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it. Thanks again for this,” Hanna said, the anxiety of something so new mingling with her excitement. He pocketed his keys with a jingle.

“Come on, down this way.” Barry nodded back down the pathway and Hanna followed, pushing her hands into her pockets and glancing around when they had made their way into what looked like the food court.

When Hanna turned back to Barry after glancing around she found him holding out a piece of paper to her.

“A map,” he said with a smile when she took it, looking over the fierce face of the tiger staring back at her on the paper. “There's a list on the back page with all the animals we have here. The reptile building is closed down but we can walk through all of the outdoor exhibits. There's quite a lot there.”

Hanna took a second to glance over the list of animals. Everything from monkeys to big cats to hippos seemed to have their own exhibit somewhere in the zoo.

“So, where do you want to start?” Barry asked, rocking back onto his heels.

“I've always wanted to see a tiger,” Hanna said, feeling her face go a little warm when Barry grinned down at her.

The grin was suddenly gone and he straightened up, clearing his throat before throwing an arm to the side and motioning to one of the wide paths to their side. “The tour will begin with the tigers, this way everyone.”

Hanna chuckled and they walked down the path, looking at the posters of animals and beautiful flowers that lined the walkway as they went. Barry had dropped his tour-guide act and was walking with his hands in his pockets, turning back to look at Hanna every once in a while. When Hanna glanced up from inspecting the large bush of bright pink flowers she caught his stare.

“What is it?” she asked.

Barry's shoulders rose up to his ears. “I'm just glad you could come.” When he glanced back down at her again he noticed a blush across her cheeks. “This way.”

At a fork in the path they went to the left, Barry maneuvering around the walkways easily by memory.

“So what do you do for maintenance here?” Hanna asked, her fingers playing with the edges of the map.

“Pretty much whatever they need done. Sometimes it's a fence that needs to be fixed, sometimes the heating or AC units need fixing, sometimes the fryers or ovens in the food court break down....”

“So you're their everything fix-it man?” Hanna asked with a small teasing smile.

“I guess if that's what you want to call it,” Barry said, his lips pulling to one side.

For a minute they walked in silence. Hanna simply enjoyed the sound of their steps and the occasional small bird that would flutter from tree to tree. Everything seemed to be immaculately maintained; bushes perfectly sculpted and pathways cleared of any dead leaves – unlike the city sidewalks just outside of the zoo. They passed another large map and Hanna was reminded of just how big it actually was; several minutes of walking and they had barely made it a few inches on the bulletin.

“So, everything fix-it man, how many tigers are there here?” Hanna caught a glimpse of a smile on his face.

“One male, two females. Tigs, Maurice, and Lanny. They should have been fed about an hour ago so we'll probably find them all sleeping if we go to the tiger's den...this way.” The path forked once more, a large sign pointing to the left for the den and to the right for the outside exhibit.

The bushes lining the walkway grew dense and large ferns brushed against Hanna's pants as it grew narrow. She fell in step just behind Barry and they descended the steps. It grew darker as they went further down into the den and for just a moment Hanna's heart jumped up in her throat. She forced herself to take a breath and kept her eyes on Barry's back until they reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the larger area. The ground was uneven and the entire cave was dim; the air thick and warm. The large den was cut in half by a pane of glass, and on just the other side Hanna saw two large cats laying on the ground.

She slowly walked closer until she was right in front of the glass.

One was curled up into a ball – reminding Hanna of the fat tabby curled up on her couch at home – and the other was stretched out a little ways away.

“They're beautiful,” Hanna said, her voice quiet as she watched one of them twitch in their sleep. They were so much bigger than she had imagined, bodies hard with muscle under beautiful orange, black, and white fur. The one stretched out moved, sharp white claws flexing from massive paws in its sleep.

“I'm not sure where the third one is,” Barry said, his voice quiet to match Hanna's as he stepped up beside her. “Probably sleeping in the outdoor exhibit.”

Hanna took another moment to look over the beautiful creatures sleeping peacefully. “Thank you, again.” When she glanced up at Barry he was staring through the glass at the tigers, the ever-present smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

For a few minutes, Hanna and Barry watched the tigers. The one stretched out further away yawned, stretched some more, and eventually came to curl up next to its friend. She watched closely, mesmerized by the muscles moving under the beautiful fur.

“So now that you've seen the tigers, where is the tour group going next?” Barry asked, attempting to appear as serious as possible...the facade ruined by the toothy grin he flashed Hanna when she smiled. Flipping the map back over, Hanna glanced over the list of animals. The tigers had been the only animal that had jumped out at her from the list.

“What's your favorite animal here?” Hanna asked, folding up the map and putting it in the pocket of her jacket.

Barry tapped his chin and thought for a moment. “I always like to watch the lemurs.”

“To the lemurs,” Hanna said with a nod, finding herself laughing again when Barry threw his arm to the side, dipped his head low and directed her to the stairs that would take them back up to the pathway.

 


	6. Chapter Six

Hanna had just barely set her purse down on the kitchen counter and kicked off her work shoes before a _ding_ interrupted the stream of meows from Big Ben. The cat tried to weave between Hanna's legs but she stepped over him, being careful not to step on his paws as he followed her back to the counter.

“Shhhh, I know, I know,” Hanna muttered, fishing through her purse for her phone. “I'm late, I know, sorry big guy.” The orange tabby let out a huff and went to sit by his food bowl, bright eyes following Hanna's every move as she finally found her phone and flipped it open.

**Barry: Is this Hanna?**

She smiled but it fell quickly. Barry hadn't had to ask if it was Hanna's phone number since their first texts, and they had been having several conversations on their phones since then. Her mind quickly went back to where the gate separated her and Hedwig, who rambled on about grabbing Barry's phone. If he was able to, perhaps the others were able to as well.

Hanna thought about ignoring the text until she could talk to Barry in person at their next appointment, but the idea of waiting several more days was not very appealing.

Big Ben let out a little squeak that went ignored as Hanna started to type.

**Hanna: Yes. Is this Barry?**

Setting the phone down, Hanna shushed the cat and went to grab a can of food. He followed excitedly behind her, tail brushing against the back of her legs as she opened the tin and stepped around him to dump the wet food into his bowl. Big Ben settled in, gulping his food down quickly.

Hanna picked up her phone just as another _ding_ broke up the stream of purrs and gulps coming from the large cat.

**Barry: No.**

Hanna stood still for a moment, rereading the simple word as her mind raced. Maybe this was Hedwig, grabbing Barry's phone again and reaching out. Or one of the other names he had mentioned, Mr. Dennis or Miss Patricia?

**Hanna: Who is this?**

Watching the screen and waiting, it wasn't long before she got her response.

**Barry: Samuel.**

Unsure of how to respond, Hanna set her phone down and went over to the fridge, grabbing a soda and thinking over the situation in her head. She had heard several names of what she assumed were other alters that Barry had...but Samuel had never come up before. How did she even know if this Samuel was another personality and not a friend? She shook her head and tried to tell herself she was being silly for worrying so much.

Cracking open the can, Hanna took a sip right as another _ding_ sounded from the phone on the counter.

**Barry: Meet me at Murphy's Pub?**

Thinking for a moment, Hanna went over the possible outcomes in her head. Meeting a new person in a public space was probably the safest way to go, anyway...and she was still dressed from work. The other option was to just say no and talk to Barry in a few days when Hanna would see him before her appointment.

Making a decision, Hanna took a long sip from her soda and started typing.

**Hanna: I don't know where that is.**

**Barry: One block south of the main bus station.**

She did know where that was, and it was only about a fifteen minute walk from her apartment.

**Hanna: Sure. When?**

**Barry: Half hour?**

**Hanna: See you then.**

Taking long gulps from the can of soda, Hanna tossed it into the garbage can and reached down to pet Big Ben. He was licking his whiskers and chirped at the sudden affection, stretching his neck up for more attention before walking over to the bed in the corner and jumping onto the soft blankets. Stepping over to the closet, Hanna decided that her pants would be fine to re-wear but the shirt she had been wearing all day felt dirty after hours of lifting boxes in and out of her delivery truck. Finding a decent gray sweater Hanna tossed her dirty work shirt into the small pile beside the closet door and put her black jacket back on, glancing through her collection of scarves before settling on a warm plaid one.

“Big guy,” Hanna said with a smile, approaching the bed slowly after wrapping the scarf around her neck and sinking into the soft blankets next to her orange tabby. He was busy licking his paw and swiping it over his ears but stopped to blink at Hanna for a moment before continuing. “Gonna be leaving again.”

Unfazed, Big Ben continued to clean his face.

“Gonna miss me?” Hanna asked, lowering her face down next to the cat and pressing her cheek against his back. He paused for a moment but continued again. “Gonna miss me at all?” A low purr started from his chest and he stopped, arching his head back to sniff Hanna's hair. “Can I take that as a yes?”

With a huff, Big Ben returned to cleaning his face and Hanna frowned, sighing and rolling onto her back away from the indifferent cat. The bed was comfortable but Hanna got up, stretching her legs and glancing at the clock again.

Deciding she would rather be early and have a few extra minutes to look around the pub they were going to meet at, Hanna slipped her boots on and tucked in the bottom of her pants. Something about meeting this new person – with Barry's familiar face – who apparently knew her enough to text her through Barry's phone left her stomach fluttering with butterflies of nervousness and excitement. Maybe she would be able to ask this Samuel some questions she hadn't been able to ask Barry before.

“Well, I'm going to miss you,” Hanna said, her boots making her steps heavier as she knelt back down onto the bed in front of the fat cat. Giving him a noisy kiss between his ears, Big Ben shook his head when Hanna pulled away and went back to swiping his paw over his ear.

Standing from the bed and pulling up the waist of her pants, Hanna grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder. She glanced back around her apartment to make sure she had her phone and keys before turning the light off and locking the door behind her.

The hallway, as usual, was silent except for the sound of the lock on her door sliding shut. Adjusting the strap of her purse against her shoulder Hanna made her way down the narrow staircase to the sidewalk outside. The air was colder now that the sun was starting to set and she tightened the scarf around her neck and zipped up her jacket higher. Hooking her thumb around the strap of her purse, Hanna started down the street towards the bus station.

The pub hadn't been too hard to find, though Hanna found herself distracted easily when she passed several large groups of people. Stepping well away to the side and up onto the steps of what looked like closed down clothing stores, Hanna waited for them to pass by her before coming back to the sidewalk and looking around at the businesses. There were a few bars that were just opening, one had obnoxiously loud music that even Hanna could hear from across the street and another had what looked like either a line out the door or a large group of people waiting around. Finally, Hanna found the pub she was looking for across the street.

A giant neon green sign hung above the door in cursive; “Murphy's Pub”. It looked nice enough, and if Hanna hadn't read the sign she would have assumed it was a diner.

Glancing through the window as she approached, Hanna was relieved to see it was relatively empty; only a few people were scattered at the tables talking quietly and one person sat at the bar. The walls were heavily decorated in paintings, nick knacks, posters, and TVs and the door dinged as she pushed it open. At the noise, the woman behind the bar wearing a bright plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves looked up and nodded to her.

After another quick look around the room Hanna's eyes fell on the man at the bar; black jacket hung on the back of the chair, sleeves of a long sleeve shirt pushed up to his elbows, and half of a glass of beer in his hand. Smiling, Hanna recognized that bald man immediately.

A sudden rush of nervousness almost made her stop in her tracks on her way to the bar. She was just about to walk up to him and greet him before realizing that – despite all appearances – this was not Barry. Before the thought continued to make her more nervous the man turned and those familiar blue eyes smiled back at her.

“You made it,” he said, his voice deeper and slower than Barry's had been. He set his glass back down on the bar counter and motioned to the stool beside him. “What do you drink?”

“Beer is fine, I'm not picky,” Hanna said, taking off her black jacket and hooking the hood over the back of the stool and setting her purse down on the empty one beside her. Lifting a hand, Samuel grabbed the bar tenders attention quickly and pointed with his thumb to Hanna.

“One more over here, on my tab.”

“Oh, I can pay for mine,” Hanna said, quickly grabbing her purse and fishing out her wallet.

“I don't mind,” Samuel said and the woman set down a pale colored beer. He reached forward and pulled the glass closer to Hanna by the coaster.

“Thank you.” The two remained quiet, watching the soccer teams play on the small TV mounted on the wall until the bar tender grabbed a tray and left to check on the customers at their tables. Hanna took a moment to watch the man beside her. Samuel's eyes were fixed to the TV, flickering between the players as they ran back and forth on the field. While it was Barry's face Hanna was looking at, his eyes looked almost tired and his smile was more reserved than she was used to; it felt like her eyes were trying to play a trick on her.

“How did you know about me?” Hanna asked quietly, pulling her glass closer and using the sleeve of her jacket to brush away the drops of water on the counter.

Samuel lifted one shoulder in a shrug and he took a long drink. “I got a glimpse of you through Barry.”

“You can do that?”

“Sometimes, it depends. I usually don't get more than a few seconds at a time but I've heard some of the others can watch more.” Hanna wasn't sure if she found that fascinating or terrifying that she could be watched by so many people at once...that Barry or Hedwig could be watching her through Samuel's eyes.

“So when did you see me?”

“Must have been at the zoo,” Samuel said, taking a moment to sip from his beer. “You were watching Tigs – the tiger in the den.” Following suit Hanna took a large gulp from her glass, the bitter aftertaste lingering for a moment after she set it back down.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Hanna asked suddenly, deciding that if she didn't ask now she probably never would work up the courage to ask it again.

“Shoot.”

“How many of you are there? In Barry's body?”

“Well it isn't Barry's body,” Samuel said, his almost flirty smile widening when he glanced down and caught the look of confusion on Hanna's face. “Barry is kind of our front-man, I guess you could say. He has the light most of the time. But the body belongs to Kevin. And there's twenty-three of us.”

“I haven't met Kevin yet,” Hanna said, thinking that number over in her head. _Twenty-three_ people, all inside of one head and sharing one body.

“You probably won't,” Samuel said, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly against the stubble on jaw, his bright blue eyes fixed on the TV screen. “He hasn't been in the light for a while now.”

“Why?” Hanna asked, taking another drink from her beer and wiping the foam away from her lips after.

All Hanna got in response was another one-shoulder shrug. Someone made a goal on TV and a few people at the tables cheered. The bar tender came back with dirty glasses and dumped them into a sink, the noise sudden and loud compared to the cheers.

“You want another?” the woman asked, motioning to the almost empty glass in Samuel's hand. Tipping the last of it into his mouth he nodded.

“So, how did you meet Barry?” Samuel asked, pushing his empty glass away and pulling the full beer towards him.

“At Dr. Fletcher's office. My appointment is right after his so I see him in the waiting room.”

“You have DID too?” Hanna looked up from her beer at the question. His eyebrows were drawn together and he had turned his stool slightly to face her more.

“No, I don't,” Hanna said quickly. “Dr. Fletcher opened up her practice to other patients, and my last therapist wanted to move me to see her instead.”

“Why's that?”

“Why what?” Hanna asked, hoping that his attention was more on the game than what she was saying but she wasn't that lucky.

“Why did your therapist move you?”

“A few reasons,” Hanna said vaguely, taking a few long gulps from her beer. Had it been Barry asking her that, in a quieter space, she may have felt like she could confide in him. But reminding herself again that this was a different person entirely, Hanna set her glass down and was determined to shift the subject to something that didn't make her heart feel like it was going to jump up into her throat. “If you don't mind my asking, why did you want to meet up with me?”

Another one-shoulder shrug from Samuel and he took another drink.

“Saw you at the zoo through Barry and he seemed to really like you. You're the first person to get a private after-hours tour,” he added with a wide grin and wink. “I got the light this afternoon and saw your name in his phone. Have you met any of the others?”

Hanna remembered Hedwig looking so skittish at the gate of the zoo and her promise to not tell anyone that he had sneaked out to see her. “No. You're the first one I've met besides Barry.”

“Well,” Samuel said slowly, setting his glass back down on the bar. “On behalf of everyone besides Barry, nice to meet you.”

He held his hand out to Hanna who returned his smile and shook his hand. One corner of his mouth was pulled up higher in a crooked smile, a small dimple on his cheek. His hand was warm compared to the cold glass but he let go quickly.

“Another over here for the lady,” Samuel said, sliding Hanna's empty glass across the bar.

* * *

 

A few more people had come into the bar since Hanna had sat down and everyone seemed captivated by the game on TV. She had asked Samuel to explain some of it to her as they finished their third beers but even with the basics laid out for her, it felt like she was watching a game on ping-pong the way the ball kept going back and forth and she settled for watching Samuel.

It was weird to see Barry's body – _Kevin's body_ , she reminded herself – sitting at a bar and drinking beer. The body and face was the same but there were small differences that Hanna noticed more and more as the night went on. His smile pulled more to the side, the small dimple on that side of his cheek, his voice was lower and almost sleepy sounding and he managed to work three winks into their conversations. He was flirty, but was growing more bold than Barry had been.

The cheering from the tables behind them brought Hanna out of her thoughts to find Samuel staring at her, an amused smile on his face as he looked at her expectantly.

“What?” Hanna asked, her face feeling warm from the several beers and his stare.

“Want me to walk you home?” Samuel asked, pushing their empty glasses across the bar.

“Sure, it's about fifteen minutes away.” Hanna put her jacket back on and slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. Samuel pulled his coat on and left some money on the bar counter. He turned to wave to the bar tender and motioned to the cash on the bar before turning back to Hanna and motioning to the door.

The two made their way out to the street right as another round of cheering erupted from the groups at the table and the noise was cut off when the door _ding_ ed shut behind them. The music from the bar across the street was even louder now than it was earlier, a heavy bass almost drowned out by the large crowd of people waiting at the front door.

Samuel searched his pockets for a moment until he found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Do you smoke?” Samuel asked, holding the pack out to Hanna and pocketing it when she shook her head.

“Sometimes, I'm fine now, though,” Hanna said. He took a moment to light his cigarette and stuffed his lighter into the pocket of his pants, taking a long drag and slowly letting it out. It had been a while since Hanna had smoked and the smell was familiar and mingled with the smell of beer between them.

“I think Barry might be watching,” Samuel said, his eyebrows furrowing and he seemed deep in thought until his bright blue eyes turned to Hanna.

“You can feel it?” she asked, rocking back onto her heels and watching an older couple walk past them slowly. Samuel waited until they were clear out of earshot before continuing.

“Sometimes. He's a sweet guy, really, but not as forward as some of the rest of us are. Sometimes I can get a whisper of a thought if they're loud enough.” Unsure of how to respond, Hanna remained quiet while he took a shorter drag from his cigarette and flicked the ashes away. “Which way?”

Hanna pointed to their left and they started down the street back the way she had come. The noise from the bar faded away and soon they were in a quieter part of downtown with closed up shops and only the occasional car driving by. They passed a few homeless people sleeping in a storefront and someone waiting for a late bus at a stop, but Hanna felt relieved to be in a quieter space.

“So how often do you get to take the light?” Hanna asked, racking her brain for the right terms. It felt like her thoughts moved sluggishly.

A slow stream of smoke ghosted down Samuel's chest from his nose. “Every once in a while. Maybe...once a week? I'm not always sure.”

“Can I ask what it's like? When you're not in the light, I mean.” Samuel was quiet for a moment and Hanna wondered if she had pressed too much for personal information. She was about to open her mouth and assure him he didn't have to answer when he shrugged one shoulder, flicking his cigarette to the side and scattering ashes on the sidewalk.

“I'm not alone, but it's kind of like I'm sleeping most of the time. Sometimes it's like I'm in a chair, in a big circle with everyone else.” Hanna watched his face as he spoke, his eyebrows drawn together as he tried to find the words.

“With the other twenty-two people?” Hanna asked and he nodded, taking another slow drag. She pointed to the right when they had to make a turn and they crossed the street.

“Mostly when I get the light I just want to go out and be around other people for a while,” Samuel said slowly and again Hanna found herself struggling to think of something to say that would be comforting. It sounded lonely, but then again Hanna could understand lonely.

“We can go out again when you get the light. Drinks on me next time,” Hanna said, smiling when Samuel flicked his cigarette butt into a trashcan they were passing and his eyebrows rose.

“Sounds great,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. They passed a group of three girls talking and giggling loudly, the smell of alcohol extremely strong as they brushed passed.

“Just another block up this way,” Hanna said as they rounded the final corner and stopped at the stairs leading to her apartment. Samuel let out a sharp breath that almost sounded like a laugh and when he turned to face Hanna he gave her a crooked smile that slowly grew into a full grin.

“What?” Hanna asked when the smile grew wider.

“I told you sometimes I can hear Barry if his thoughts are really loud,” he said, and let out another short breath while Hanna watched him. “I think he really wants to send a message.”

“To me?” Hanna asked, her eyebrows raising as she watched his expression carefully. He seemed amused, cheeks a little red and that crooked smile pulling to one side.

Hanna felt her breath catch in her throat when Samuel stepped closer, that smile growing wider.

“Yes, to you.” The smell of beer and cigarettes on his breath growing stronger as he inched closer. Hanna tilted her head up to him, her heart pounding hard in her chest and his hand came up to brush some of the hair away from her face, fingertips brushing against her ear. Hanna felt herself smiling when his hand lingered on her face and she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes until her nose brushed against his.

It felt like they stood that way forever, his thumb ghosting over her ear to her jaw, pressing just enough to tilt her face up more until their lips finally met. There was a sharp contrast in the softness of his lips and the rough stubble on his cheek that her nose pressed into.

It was over all too soon and Samuel pulled away, taking a step back and leaving Hanna feeling like he had taken all the air from her lungs with him. His smile grew wider, the dimple forming on his cheek.

“Was it a clear message?” Samuel asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Hanna nodded, her face feeling warm. “Very clear.”

“Well, I'll see you next time I have the light?” Samuel asked, his eyebrows raising until Hanna nodded. “See you then.”

“Bye.” Samuel gave her a final wink and grinned as he moved past her to go back the way they had come. Hanna took a slow breath and turned to watch him disappear around the corner. When he was gone she made her way up the stairs to her apartment door, her cheeks still feeling hot and red even after she had set her purse down and kicked off her boots.

Glancing at the clock over the stove, Hanna was surprised that she had spent so much time sitting and talking with Samuel. She still had a smile on her face after changing into a pair of shorts and tank top, nudging the orange tabby cat out of the center of the bed until there was enough room for her to snuggle into the blankets.

Hanna laid on her back, running her fingers through her hair and closing her eyes, replaying the events of the night until she finally fell asleep.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being patient! I'm back from vacation and updates will go back to normal. I tried to make this one nice and long as a thank you so I hope you guys enjoy this one. :)

A loud bell jingled over her head as Hanna pushed open the door to the coffee shop and stepped inside. The warmth of the store made her cheeks tingle but she quickly warmed up, rubbing her hands together as she went to the counter and ordered her coffee. The smell of fresh coffee was probably one of her favorite smells, especially after a long day of work in the chilly weather.

The woman behind the counter poured her drink quickly, charged her, and went back to filling the machines along the back hall. Beans were poured noisily while Hanna found a table in the far corner where newspaper and a few fliers caught her eye.

Pulling out the chair, she sat down with her steaming cup of coffee and checked out the newspaper; only a day old. Hanna picked up one of the fliers about a farmer's market nearby but her attention was drawn to the one underneath it. A fun print bold at the top reading 'Philly Fair' was written over a picture of a Ferris Wheel and an overly large funnel cake. She flipped it over to the back, reading the lists of rides and entertainments with a fond smile. She folded the thick paper up and put it in her pocket.

Hanna glanced up when a cold gust of air brushed her hair up against her face and tickled her cheeks. A woman fumbled her way through the door with four noisy children and the door slammed shut, the bell above jingling. Hanna checked the time and decided to wait a few more minutes before sending off the 'where are you' text. One of the kids at the counter screamed something about hot chocolate and was shushed frantically by his mom until his yells died down to a whine.

Taking a sip, Hanna winced at the hot coffee that almost burned her lips but took another quickly, knowing it would warm her up faster. She glanced at a few pages halfheartedly in the newspaper but when nothing caught her eye, Hanna picked up her phone and started to message Barry.

**Hanna: Hey Barry. Are you still coming?**

Hanna set her phone down on the table and wrapped her fingers around the hot cup of coffee, enjoying the smells from the small coffee shop. After having spend a good long while working outside, the tips of her fingers tingled as they warmed up against the mug. Her phone vibrated on the table and she quickly picked it up and flipped it open.

**Barry: Hi.**

**Hanna: Hi. Who is this?**

Setting the phone down again, Hanna took a sip from her cup and flicked through another page in the paper. Some local baseball team had a big win, a hippo at the zoo may be pregnant – Hanna remembered Barry saying something about that – and a politician was battling rumors of a scandal. As soon as her cup hit the table her phone vibrated.

**Barry: I'm not supposed to use this.**

Hanna smiled, rereading the words when a certain boy came to mind. It felt so weird to picture a young boy and see Barry's face – _Kevin's face_ – come to mind with that overly excited smile and slight lisp.

**Hanna: Hedwig?**

**Barry: Yes.**

She finished the rest of her coffee in a few big gulps and pushed her chair back, slipping her large jacket on and throwing her purse over her shoulder. She had been looking forward to seeing Barry again, especially after meeting Samuel and getting a “message” that still made her cheeks feel warm at the memory of it. Hanna did feel a little disappointed that the light had shifted from Barry to Hedwig, but she would be seeing him before her appointment tomorrow anyway.

Hanna took her mug to the counter and thanked the woman behind the register. Leaving the wonderful smelling coffee shop she stuffed her hands in her pockets when the cold air hit her like a freight train, the delicious smells being replaced with car exhaust. Thankfully the place they had agreed to meet at was only a ten minute walk from her apartment and Hanna walked quickly to get back to the warmth of her home fast.

Hanna's phone vibrated against her fingers and when she had crossed the street she checked her phone.

**Barry: Barry was supposed to meet you?**

**Hanna: Yeah. That's okay, though. We can get coffee another time.**

**Barry: I know how to make coffee!**

Hanna smiled, lowering her phone when she crossed another street.

**Hanna: You want to make me coffee?**

**Barry: Yeah.**

Hanna stopped along the sidewalk for a moment and gave it a serious thought. She had been invited over before, but only to walk around the zoo with Barry, not to actually go inside where they lived. Hanna had to admit she was curious to see how someone lived inside of a zoo and especially to see how someone like Kevin lived with so many people crammed into one body. Thinking it over for a moment, Hanna decided that as long as she was invited it wouldn't feel intrusive.

**Hanna: Okay. When should I come over?**

**Barry: Anytime. Now?**

She could picture the eagerness on his face and it made her smile widen. She probably looked crazy standing in the middle of the sidewalk grinning down at her phone but she ignored the few people around her and sent back a final text, letting Hedwig know that she would be coming over as soon as she could catch a bus.

* * *

 

Waiting at the gate for him was becoming to feel more comfortable for Hanna, despite being in a fairly dark and empty place. She made sure that no one was watching her from the street and stuffed her hands in her pockets, hoping her dark coat was enough to camouflage her from anyone who was walking by.

Her fingers brushed passed the thick flier she had folded up from the coffee shop and she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her, remembering the rides and the greasy food from many years ago.

After a few minutes Hanna began to wonder if she should call Barry's number. Perhaps Hedwig was gone now and another one had taken his place. Or taken “the light” as Samuel had called it. Holding her phone in her hand, she debated how she would explain calling so late if someone she didn't know picked up.

Pocketing her phone, Hanna rocked back and forth on her heels until the sound of quick footsteps caught her attention. Peering through the gate, Hanna felt like she was more prepared to see the bald man crouched low, shrinking into the shadows and moving quickly towards her. It was still off-putting how secretive and jumpy he was, but knowing it was Hedwig when those bright blue eyes finally caught a flash of light put her at ease.

He came to a stop at the gate, glancing behind him quickly before fumbling in his pocket for the keys.

“Hi Hedwig,” Hanna said quietly. He looked at her just long enough to flash a very wide and excited grin, but his head kept bobbing around, checking behind him and around to the street behind her and then back behind him again until he finally got the right key and unlocked the gate.

“Come on,” he hissed, waving her quickly through the gate and shutting it quietly behind her. “They don't know I'm out here.”

“I won't tell them you're here,” Hanna said reassuringly, remembering how frantic he had been about that last time.

“They can't know you're here either,” Hedwig said, his voice almost a whisper. He stared down at Hanna with wide, innocent eyes.

“Wait, Hedwig,” Hanna said, grabbing his wrist and stopping him as he was turning to go back down the pathway into the zoo. “I'm not supposed to be here?”

At her question, Hedwig lowered his eyes to his feet and seemed to look around the pavement for an answer, then when he found none his head rolled back to look up at the dark sky.

“Well, no, not really,” he confessed slowly. “Mr. Dennis said I couldn't have any friends over.”

“I really don't want you to get into trouble.” Hanna felt like something cold ran through her when she remembered back to her night out with Samuel; he had said that sometimes the others could see what was going on...even if they weren't “in the light”. Could one of the others like Mr. Dennis be watching Hedwig lead Hanna right to their home?

“We'll be quiet, though,” Hedwig said, his smile faltering just a touch. “He won't know you're there.”

“Hedwig, I talked to Samuel.” She watched his face closely as she spoke, not sure if he would find that surprising or already know about it. “He said that sometimes the others can see what's going on, even if they're not in the light.”

For a brief moment Hedwig rubbed his chin, his eyebrows furrowed. “Not me though.”

“What do you mean?”

“They can't see what I'm doing. I can block them out, it drives them crazy,” Hedwig said, his smile growing with every word. He stood a little taller, crossing his arms tightly across his chest and squaring his shoulders proudly. “I'm the only one who can do that.”

Hanna watched him closely, looking for any signs that he could be lying. But the young boy standing there inside the body of someone much larger simply grinned down at Hanna widely, and she wondered if he was even capable of forming a convincing lie.

“That's really impressive,” Hanna said, smiling when Hedwig let out an awkward noise and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unaccustomed to compliments. A thought quickly occurred to her when she stuffed her hands into her pocket and her knuckles hit the hard edge of the flier for the Philly Fair. “Do you ever leave the zoo?”

“Not since we came here.” His voice was still quiet and he looked over his shoulder back down the pathway, wary that any of the dead leaves being pushed around by the breeze was someone who would catch him. “I'm not supposed to leave unless we really have to. And then if we do Mr. Dennis moves us cause he can carry all of the things like the boxes, ectetera. I can't carry those yet but I bet I can in a few years. I'll be stronger then.” Hedwig trailed off, scuffing the toe of his shoe awkwardly against the pavement.

“Have you been to the fair?” Hanna asked suddenly, watching in amusement as his blue eyes grew wide at the thought before he shook his head. “You've never been to the fair?” She had fond early memories of going to the fair with her parents and sister, failing to get any good prizes on the games and throwing up cotton candy and ice cream.

Hedwig shook his head, turning away and raising his shoulders, shrinking away from her in his embarrassment.

“You're going to the fair,” Hanna said, her smile growing when a sense of déjà vu came over her. “Barry took me to an art museum when I hadn't been to one. It's been a good month of trying new things. So come on,” Hanna said, motioning to the street behind her. “I'll take you to the fair.”

A good amount of time passed where Hedwig thought about it, his facial expressions swinging wildly between excited and worried. Hanna thought about prompting him to come but she stopped herself, allowing him to slowly come to a conclusion and bob his head. Very suddenly Hedwig straightened up, turned sharply and with rushed hands unlocked the gate behind him. He motioned to her with a frantic waving motion to follow him to the other side and she did, waiting for him to slam the gate closed and lock it back up.

Pocketing his keys, Hedwig let out a long breath that morphed into a laugh, grabbing Hanna's arm and pulling her towards the street like he was making a mad dash for freedom. She fell quickly into step behind him, almost thrown off balance but just barely catching herself.

“I'm going to the fair,” Hedwig whispered wildly, turning back to Hanna but keeping a tight grip on her wrist. “You were serious, right?”

“Of course,” Hanna said with a grin, breathless from the sudden running to keep up with his long strides. It had been so many years since Hanna had gone to the fair and she wondered whether it would be the same as it was back when she was little. She remembered how bright and fun everything had been and hoped he would get that same experience.

Once they had jogged across the entrance to the zoo and reached the street his head turned wildly to look around at the buildings and cars, all of which were dark and closed. He almost walked right out into the street but Hanna pulled him back sharply before he did.

“It's down this way,” she said, nodding down the street and using the hand firmly gripping her wrist to tug him along the sidewalk. Hanna watched in amusement as his wide eyes tried to take in everything on the fairly bland and empty street, walking along at a slower pace now that they had distanced themselves from the zoo.

“Is it far?” he asked, his voice still a hushed whisper as he looked closely at every one of the closed up stores.

“No, about five or six blocks maybe,” Hanna said, smiling when Hedwig stopped dead in his tracks, released his grip on her wrist – thankfully, because it was starting to get too tight and her hand was starting to tingle – and bolted to one of the closed stores.

For a moment Hanna thought he was going to throw himself through the window of the bakery, but thankfully he stopped before he hit the window just as Hanna was about to yell out for him to stop. He threw his hands out, pressing them and his face against the glass to get a closer look at the elaborate cakes on display.

“Look at these!” One hand waved Hanna over dramatically before slapping against the glass again. She jogged over and inspected the cakes with him; a large white wedding cake towered high above several smaller but elaborately decorated birthday cakes and congratulation cakes all brightly colored. Hanna made a mental note that Hedwig really really liked decorated cakes and she was finally able to pry him away from the store with a promise of a funnel cake at the fair.

“One for each of us, and they even let you take it on the Ferris Wheel,” Hanna said, smiling when Hedwig's hand automatically grabbed hers as she guided him through the streets to the fairgrounds. He walked close to her, his arm brushing her shoulder with every exaggerated swing of their hands but unlike with Samuel this contact was sweet and innocent.

“Almost there, just around the corner up here,” Hanna said and Hedwig's strides grew quicker. Suddenly he was pulling Hanna around the corner excitedly and he froze, feet rooted to the sidewalk under the streetlight.

Ahead of them was the entrance; bright lights surrounding the sign above the ticket booths and the two made a beeline. Hanna paid the woman at the ticket booth while Hedwig stood close behind her, head turning every which way to take everything in all at once. Thanking the woman behind the ticket booth Hanna handed Hedwig his ticket.

“Come on over here and give them your ticket,” Hanna said, pointing to where a man with a slicked back mohawk stood at the turn styles. She had to prompt him again to hand over his ticket when a group of yelling children grabbed his attention, but they made their way through the gate and into the fairgrounds.

“Oh, over here!” Hanna said, grabbing Hedwig's hand so she wouldn't lose him while she dashed across the walkway to a stand. “Wait here.”

Hanna jumped in line and waited a moment, checking back on Hedwig to make sure that he was still standing where she had left him until she made it to the front of the line and ordered something she hadn't had in years.

With a grin, she paid the man and grabbed the two plates offered to her, pushing passed a man in a costume to go back to Hedwig.

“This is a funnel cake,” Hanna said, attempting to keep an air of education to her tone but that broke into a laugh when Hedwig excitedly grabbed one of the plates from her hand, plucked the cake up and stuffed as much of it into his mouth as he could. “Don't choke it on!” she added but he managed to swallow the massive bite without coughing it back up.

“It's delicious!” he said, stopping just long enough to take a deep breath and dive in for another bite.

Hanna decided to go about eating hers without inhaling it. “Come on, Ferris Wheel is this way.”

Hedwig nodded and followed Hanna, finishing his cake in record time despite all of the distractions vying for his attention. Games set off lights and noises as people won, a group on a ride nearby let out loud screams that faded as soon as they had come, and someone dressed up in a costume Hanna didn't recognize had a group of children in front of him giggling. She licked the extra powdered sugar off of her fingers before breaking off another piece of cake.

“Where do I put this?” Hedwig asked around his last mouthful of food, holding his plate up and throwing it away when Hanna found a garbage can along the row of tents and games.

“This way,” Hanna said, seeing the top of the Ferris Wheel turning over the tents. She lead Hedwig through the fair, watching him watch the people around them. Every once in a while a loud game or person would catch his attention but as soon as it came it would leave and they could continue through the fair.

Hanna thought it was nice walking around with Hedwig, and was struck by how lonely it must be for him to never leave his house. He could still talk to the others, at least...Hanna did remember that from her conversation with Samuel.

“So what's it like to talk to the others?” Hanna asked, breaking a piece of funnel cake off and savoring the nostalgia of the dessert while Hedwig, in contrast, was empty handed and licking his fingers. Powdered sugar smeared across his chin and all over his hand but he didn't seem to care, his attention swung between the lights and noises around them.

“It's like thinking really loud,” he said though his eyes never stopped bouncing between the lights and signs. “And sometimes I'll just hear something when someone else is in the light. It's cool.”

“Is that how you heard about me?” Hanna asked, curious after their first meeting through the gates of the zoo when he had already known her name.

“Barry hates that scarf,” Hedwig said absentmindedly, turning to look at her just long enough to motion to the scarf around her neck. “I like it, I like red. But Barry hates it.”

“You heard Barry think that he hates this?” Hanna asked and her hand automatically came up to feel the soft fabric around her neck. No matter what, there was always something wrapped around her neck. It had become sort of a security blanket of sorts and she had thought that Barry would have liked the bright color with all of his talk of art.

“Oh yeah, I don't understand it but he hates it. And Mr. Dennis likes when you wear the skirt he likes seeing girls legs, I don't really get it I mean legs are nice and you have nice legs but he _really_ likes legs.” Hanna's smile grew as Hedwig started to talk faster and faster; his first fairgrounds sugar-rush kicking in and she stopped walking just long enough to help him brush the sugar off of his face. The short stubble felt sandy under her fingers and she was struck by the difference in his body and mind once more.

“Mr. Dennis saw me?” Hanna asked, finding this entire conversation extremely fascinating and glad that Hedwig was so willing to share. With all of the other people inside that one body, Hanna wondered what some of the people she hadn't met yet were thinking about her.

“He must have.” Hedwig shrugged, eyes fixing on a game under a tent at the corner they were coming up on. “What's that?”

“A fishing game,” Hanna said, remembering it from when she would pass by it with her sister. At the time they had been more fond of the shooting games or throwing darts at balloons. This one looked like it was updated from years ago; bright colors and lights surrounded the tub filled with water where little fake fish floated around inside. “Do you want to play?”

Hedwig didn't answer but grabbed Hanna's elbow and pulled her to the tent. She almost dropped her plate but managed to regain her balance before the funnel cake slid off. Hanna set her plate on the counter when Hedwig let go of her arm and finished the bite of funnel cake that was in her hand.

“Two please,” she said carefully around her food and held up two fingers to the attendant under the tent, a young kid with just a tiny bit of peach fuzz growing in patches on his chin. Hedwig leaned heavily on the counter, watching the fish float by quickly on a current made by some machine bubbling away in the corner of the tank.

“Four dollars,” he said, very clearly underwhelmed as he handed them each a long stick with a magnet attached by a long string.

“How do you play?” Hedwig asked, swinging the magnet back and forth over the counter as Hanna fished the money out of her pocket and handed it to the boy. The attendant raised his eyebrow at Hedwig but explained anyway.

“Hold the stick, try to catch a fish with the magnet, no climbing over the counter. The smaller the fish the bigger the prize.”

Hedwig nodded, his eyebrows drawn together and the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in his concentration. His face relaxed just for a moment as he looked to Hanna eagerly, waiting for her to nod so he could start.

She went ahead and nodded, grabbing her own stick and holding the magnet over the water, trying to wait until she saw a smaller fish float by. Hedwig decided to dive right in and wildly swung his stick high above his head, throwing the magnet into the water with a splash that had the attendant jump. He let out a loud laugh, pulling his magnet out of the water and coming up with a yellow fish that he quickly snatched off of the magnet. Hanna dipped her magnet carefully into the water, missing the fish she was after and coming up with a large red one.

“Look what I won!” Hedwig yelled, pushing the yellow fish up to Hanna's face as the attendant walked over and held out his hand.

“You don't win the fish, you win a prize.”

“Oh,” Hedwig said, looking disappointingly down at the toy fish in his hand for a moment before he cheered up, ignoring the hand in front of him prompting him to hand over the fish. “What do I win?”

“Any one on this row,” the attendant said, pointing lazily to a row of stuffed animals on the wall behind him. He dropped his hand when he realized Hedwig had no intention of handing over the fish yet. “And you get any one on this row.” He pointed to the row of slightly smaller stuffed animals on a row above Hedwig's.

“I want the tiger,” Hedwig said, pointing eagerly to a fluffy tiger in the corner and the attendant skirted around the tub of churning water to grab it. He turned with a raised eyebrow to Hanna until she made her decision.

“I'll have the monkey.” She pulled the fish off of her magnet and placed both on the counter while the boy stood on his tip toes to grab a brown fuzzy monkey.

“Thanks!” Hedwig said, his voice almost a yell in his excitement as he pocketed his fish and grabbed the tiger, turning on his heels and walking away.

“Hey, man. You can't take the fish,” the attendant said, pointing to Hedwig's pocket as Hanna grabbed her prize from his hands.

“Come on,” she said quickly, pushing Hedwig's back and moving him quickly away from the tent. He didn't seem to notice and instead inspected the fluffy tiger, smoothing the fur down on its back and poking the eyes with his fingers.

“Thank you!” Hedwig yelled over his shoulder and Hanna kept them moving quickly until the boys voice died out in the sea of fair-goers. After they had rounded the corner and walked a minute Hanna checked behind them to make sure the attendant hadn't followed them. She laughed, but Hedwig seemed oblivious to his innocently thieving ways and she decided it would be easier to just not tell him. Two prizes for the price of one, anyway.

“Where is the ride?” Hedwig asked, craning his neck to look around once his attention had finally drifted away from his newly-won tiger which was already named Frederick. In his mumbling over names Hanna had gathered that he already had a stuffed animal tiger named Percy. Percy had been gifted to him by Patricia when they had first moved to the zoo and she smiled at the thought of Hedwig getting a present from another one of the people inside with him.

“This way,” Hanna said, pointing around a corner to where the massive wheel was spinning lazily.

“Wow.” Hedwig's pace slowed as he looked up at the ride, his mouth opening in a wide smile and he started to laugh. “That is huge! Do we get to go all the way to the top?”

“We do,” Hanna said, letting him grab her hand again and swing their arms as they rounded the corner. “Let's get in line.”

Thankfully the line was fairly short, and right after they stepped in a group of about ten noisy and giggly children got in line behind them. Hanna watched Hedwig, the lights from the ride reflecting off his face as he stared up in amazement. Suddenly though, his face fell and he looked sharply behind him, turning to scan the faces around them.

“Are you okay?”

“What if I'm not tall enough?” Hedwig hissed, motioning to the pole next to the gate that read 'you must be this tall' with a clown indicating a height of around Hanna's chest. His eyes scanned the area around them as if waiting for someone to swoop in and tell him he could not ride with her. She almost wanted to laugh at the idea that a man who towered over her thought he was too short but stopped herself before she did. He really did think he was in the body of a young boy...and how she saw him was clearly different than how he saw himself.

“Stick with me,” Hanna said, giving him a reassuring smile when his eyes finally flickered down to her. “I'll make sure you get on.”

He let out a nervous laugh and started to whisper under his breath but Hanna couldn't make out his words with the group of giggling children behind them. She squeezed his hand as the line slowly moved forward and before long they were standing in front of the closed gate and a man well into his sixties who looked about as fed-up with his job as the game attendant had been.

Hedwig stood fidgeting beside her and Hanna squeezed his hand again, smiling to the attendant when he stopped the ride and opened the gate.

“Watch your step,” he said slowly and Hanna pulled Hedwig through the gate, up to the platform and to the seats.

“I got in!” he whispered excitedly and Hanna shushed him before the attendant overheard. He slid into the seat and Hanna followed, pulling the bar down over their laps.

The attendant walked by slowly and locked their bar into place. “Hands and feet inside at all times. Do not rock the cart.”

He went back to the panel by the gate and hit a button. Their seats jerked forward suddenly before finding a slow pace that brought them up off the platform.

“Woooooooaaaaa!!!” Hedwig let out a loud cry, holding Frederick the tiger firmly in his hand and throwing both up wildly as they took off. Hanna laughed and set her monkey in her lap, watching his eyes grow wider as the ride took them higher and higher. Within seconds they were looking at the tops of the tents and the heads of the other fair-goers.

“Holy shit!” Hedwig said, his hands coming down and one gripping the bar in their laps firmly. Hanna laughed at his outburst. “Look! Look! The zoo! Over there!”

“I think I see it,” Hanna said, squinting her eyes but she was lying. Beyond the bright colorful lights of the fair she couldn't see much more than some streetlights and buildings in the darkness. The cloudy moonless sky made seeing anything else impossible but she smiled and agreed as Hedwig pointed to more things around the city.

“This is so cool,” Hedwig said, his voice having died down to an astonished whisper after they had reached the top and were coming back around the other side. “Does it keep going?”

“For a little while,” Hanna said, realizing it had been so long since she had been on the Ferris Wheel that she had forgotten how long the ride lasts. Hanna leaned back in her seat and watched Hedwig as they went around for their second turn. And their third. And on their fourth she figured the ride would be over soon.

Hedwig had calmed down so he was no longer yelling as they made their last ride up to the top of the Ferris Wheel. She figured maybe some of that sugar was wearing off and he would be getting tired soon. The cycle of the fair-goer was familiar to her, even if it had been a long time since she had been there.

“Are you ready to go home after this?” Hanna asked. His eyes were still scanning everything he could possibly see from up that high.

“I probably should,” Hedwig said and Hanna agreed. “Barry will probably take the light tonight and tomorrow.”

“You all have a schedule?” Hanna asked, surprised that something that seems so chaotic to her would have that kind of structure.

“It's not official or anything,” Hedwig said with a shrug of his shoulder, eyes fixed on the people below them as they climbed to the top. “Just usually how it works. Barry goes to the doctor appointments and stuff and after that Patricia or Samuel take over.”

“Does everybody get some time in the light?”

“Some more time than others.” Hedwig let out a long yawn and Hanna smiled, he was right on time for his sugar crash. He was better off than Hanna and her sister had been though, without adult supervision they had eaten themselves into a near-death-by-sugar-coma that always resulted in them throwing up.

“I'm really glad you came here with me,” Hanna said and Hedwig tore his eyes away from the world under them to grin at her.

“Thank you for taking me, this is so cool! Can we go out again soon?” Despite the sleepiness in his voice he still managed to sound excited.

“Yeah, I'll have to find something for us to do.”

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much!! Thank you for the kind words and thank you for being patient while I get my school stuff squared away and go on vacation for a while (it was much needed). I know this one is a little bit shorter than usual but I hope the new character being introduced here makes up for it. :)

“ _Hello?”_

Hanna jumped at the voice in her ear. Having been listening to ringing for what felt like forever she was sure Dr. Fletcher's phone would go to voicemail any moment. Instead the cheery voice of the doctor rang in her ear.

“Oh, hi,” Hanna said, shaking her head to bring herself out of her thoughts. “It's Hanna.”

“ _Hello Hanna, is everything alright?”_

“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her knuckles against her nose and brushing them on her pajamas, wishing she had the foresight at the supermarket to pick up tissues. “I need to cancel my appointment for today, I think I'm coming down with something.”

“ _Is it the migraines again?”_ The cheerfulness of the doctor's voice had been replaced with worry.

“No, no, my head's fine. Well, kinda. Just a sore throat and really runny nose and tired.”

“ _Sounds like a cold. Well, alright. I was hoping to talk to you today but I understand. Do you want me to pencil you in for an extra session early next week?”_

“I don't think I need an extra session,” Hanna said. She didn't particularly like the sound of spending extra time sitting and being probed verbally by the doctor. As much as she hated being sick she did appreciate the excuse to stay home instead.

“ _Okay, well I hope you feel better soon. Get some rest and I'll see you next week._ ”

“Thanks,” Hanna said, flipping her phone closed and sliding it lazily along the counter to rest beside her purse. With a sigh, Hanna walked over to her bed and dropped heavily into the warm blankets. Thoughts of her runny nose, her cat deciding it was the perfect time to kneed her stomach with his paws, and dread at what her next appointment with Dr. Fletcher would be, Hanna finally fell into some semblance of sleep.

For a short while, at least. Hanna was brought out of her half-awake-half-sleeping haze with a fit of coughing. Sitting up, she accidentally knocked Big Ben off of her and he hissed, stalking across the bed to sit at her feet and stared at her until she finally was able to clear her throat.

Taking a long sniff she rubbed her nose again on the back of her wrist and threw herself back against her pillows, running her fingers through her hair and groaning when they ran into several tangles. Before she could will her tired feet to move her to the bathroom so she could rummage through the drawers and find her brush a soft knock at the door drew her attention.

Hanna threw the blankets off and tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine; she may have been too warm and a little sweaty under the covers but the air in her apartment was entirely too cold. She took a glance down at her clothes and shrugged off the idea of trying to find a robe or blanket to cover up with. Anyone who came knocking without any notice while she was laying in sick misery in her bed would just have to deal with her pajama shorts and tank top...complete with a coating of orange cat hair and the mysterious blue stain on the hem.

A second gentle knock reminded Hanna, in her sleepy haze, that there was someone waiting at the door and she quickly got up and quickly made her way across the room.

She unlocked and opened the door enough to peak her head out and see who was there. Cool air rushed in from the hallway, chilling her bare arms and legs. The discomfort of being sick _and_ cold disappeared when she saw Barry standing in the hallway.

“Hey.” Hanna smiled, opening the door the rest of the way and feeling a sudden rush of self-consciousness. She should have found some other clothes to put on, her nose was probably rubbed red from all of the sniffling, and her hair was a mess from doing nothing but tossing and turning in bed all day. As soon as his head turned towards her, though, the small worries running wild in her head vanished.

He was dressed in surprisingly dark clothes; a dark shirt buttoned all the way up to the top, black pants...everything void of the usual color and fashion that Barry wore with such confidence. Where Hanna expected to see a toothy grin and get a warm greeting, his eyes were cold and if she didn't know any better, she would think he was angry.

“You're not Barry...or Samuel,” Hanna said slowly, staring back at this new person just as hard as he was staring at her. Those familiar eyes – harder and more piercing than she had seen before – quickly swept the room over her shoulder before landing back on her again, looking her quickly up and down with little emotion.

“I'm Dennis.” His voice was quiet and deep with a hint of an accent, a far cry from Hedwig or Barry's happy tones. The name sent some alarm bells going off in Hanna's head, remembering the young boys constant fear of Mr. Dennis or Miss Patricia. Was Hedwig's fear just a child scared of a scolding or was there reason for Hanna to be afraid as well?

After a few moments had passed Dennis seemed to realize that her wariness was not fading away, and Hanna still stood with her bare feet firmly planted in the doorway. “I'm here to talk, if you have a minute.”

Hanna stepped back and nodded for him to follow her inside, closing the door behind him and crossing her arms over her chest – both to fend off the chill that had followed him inside and to cover up what suddenly felt like far too much exposed skin for a first time introduction.

Of course nothing had physically changed about him since she had seen him last so perhaps it was his clothes and the way he carried himself that made it feel like he towered over her as he passed. He stopped in the middle of the kitchen, giving everything a look over while Hanna waited by the door. His eyes seemed to linger on every little spot in her kitchen before he finally turned back to her, his eyebrows drawn together and appearing even more stern and uncomfortable than he had before.

He had said he wanted to talk, so she waited for him to start talking.

“You took Hedwig.” The room suddenly felt ten degrees colder and Hanna was sure her face turned bright red...or maybe white. Her body felt like it was constantly drifting from hot to cold it was hard to tell but she dropped her eyes to the floor in embarrassment, wondering briefly if there was any way to deny it. “I found the two new stuffed animals,” he said, a disapproving reply to her unanswered question.

“He was safe with me the whole time and-”

“You had _no right_ to take Hedwig out of our home,” Dennis said, his voice louder as he cut her off. Hanna slowly closed her mouth and adjusted her arms, holding them tighter across her chest.

“I'm sorry,” Hanna said finally. She glanced up when she heard a deep sigh. He had turned away from her and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. She thought about breaking the silence but she struggled to find anything else to say to this stranger.

“You are _never_ to take him out again, do you understand?” He was not yelling...in fact his voice was rather quiet but Hanna felt rooted to the spot, shifting her weight between her feet uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, feeling more like a scolded child than she had in many years.

“I would say you are not to see him again,” Dennis started, his voice trailing off before he rubbed the back of his neck and Hanna finally met his gaze again, “but I know the others won't help me enforce that.”

She almost smiled at those words but she still felt scrutinized and uncomfortable, and settled for just watching as he crossed his arms. He seemed to be at a loss for words as well, so the two stood silently in Hanna small, messy apartment with their arms crossed and sharing uncomfortable glances.

“We're sorry you're sick,” he said, having looked Hanna over again. “Your top is dirty.”

Unsure of how to answer that and still feeling like words wouldn't come to her easily, Hanna kept her gaze low and nodded. The feeling in her stomach – unease, nervousness – was such a drastic change from the way Barry or Hedwig or even Samuel had made her feel. She wasn't sure she liked it, but the man standing in her kitchen didn't look any more comfortable than she felt.

“I should leave.” Dennis reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellow handkerchief, flipping it open with a flick of his wrist. He took a few steps towards the door and Hanna watched as he paused, turning back to her before he seemed to decide against stopping or saying anything else and used the handkerchief to open the door.

After his stern scolding and his disapproval of her clothes, her apartment (or maybe it was just the mess in the kitchen), and the general upset and uncomfortable air around him Hanna expected the door to slam closed behind him. Maybe even shake the framed picture on her wall a bit. But the door clicked shut very softly – as quiet as he had knocked – and after a few moments of replaying his words in her head Hanna stepped over and locked the door behind him.

Still feeling that bizarre mixture of hot and cold in the pit of her stomach, and now confused and kind of annoyed and _damn it_ her nose was still so runny...Hanna threw herself back into bed. Big Ben chirped his own annoyance at her disturbing his sleep but he settled back down as soon as Hanna buried herself beneath the blankets.

Hanna was relieved that Dennis wasn't able to _ban_ her from seeing any of the others completely, but she was also annoyed that he even wanted to. She was annoyed and frustrated and bewildered that the man had tracked her down, woke her up, and _scolded_ her in her own apartment just for taking Hedwig to a carnival. She tried to push the mixed feelings at bay, reaching down and scratching the top of Big Ben's head until he started to purr.

Throwing her arms above her head she stretched and ran her fingers through her hair again, groaning loudly when her fingers pulled harder on the tangles than she intended to.

“Today sucks,” Hanna muttered, partly to the snoozing cat by her side and partly to herself.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

“Thanks, have a good one,” Hanna said, smiling politely and taking the papers offered to her by the elderly bar owner. The beer had been dropped off and the paperwork finished, so Hanna tried to avoid the small talk as kindly as possible and walked out the back door to the small parking lot littered in cigarette butts.

It was surprisingly cold out and Hanna was now very happy that she had decided to take her bigger jacket despite the weatherman on TV promising sun and warmth all day. Just before her lunch break the clouds started to roll in and the temperature dropped drastically, and now at the end of her shift it felt like they had jumped several months ahead straight to winter.

Hopping back into the work van and tossing the paperwork into the small pile at the foot of the passengers seat, Hanna's mind continued to wander back to what had happened with Dennis. Thoughts of their awkward encounter also brought up what would happen in the a few days when she would see Barry again. She had been hoping that some sort of text would _ding_ on her phone from him but when all she got was silence she decided to give him some space. But Hanna still found herself thinking about them and checking her phone every once in a while.

Hanna shook her head, realizing she had been spacing out for what had to be the tenth time that day. The steering wheel was cold under her hands and she rubbed them together to warm up before starting the van and backing out of the parking lot.

Glancing down at the clipboard in the passenger seat Hanna confirmed her next and thankfully last delivery of the day all the way across town. She cranked the heat in the van and tapped her fingers impatiently on the wheel while she waited at a red light.

Loud music from the car next to hers shook the van and the spare chance in the cup holder made an irritating noise, but thankfully she didn't have to wait that long before the light turned green and the car took off, leaving a cloud of exhaust behind it for Hanna to drive through.

The last delivery went by quickly. The workers behind the bar were busy and seemed to want her to come and go as fast as possible which was preferable to the kind of workers who wanted to sit and talk about nothing. Before too long she had hauled the several boxes of beer inside and stacked it beside the counter, got her paperwork signed and she was back to sitting in the van and trying desperately to warm up her fingers.

Pulling back out onto the busy streets Hanna was really looking forward to getting home, cuddling up with Big Ben on the couch under a warm blanket and cooking the pizza waiting for her in her freezer. It would be a nice change from the usual toast and fruit that made up ninety percent of her diet.

“Mmmmm, pepperoni,” Hanna muttered to herself, pulling into the large parking lot of her work and parking the van next to the three identical ones.

She made quick work of punching her numbers into the time clock, passing the papers onto her boss, and grabbing her purse. Then she was back on the sidewalk and stuffing her hands deep into her pockets, wishing she had ignored the weatherman even more and brought some gloves and a thicker scarf. Deciding against grabbing a bus Hanna took the shortest way home and distractedly jogged up the stairs while she fished her phone out of her purse.

Flipping the phone open Hanna couldn't help but frown; still no message from Barry or Samuel or Hedwig. Maybe Dennis had tried to cut off contact. The thought that he could be _that_ mad at her made her stomach flip as she finally made it to her floor, turning the corner and pushing things around in her purse until she heard the keys clink together.

“Han,” a voice at her door said and Hanna jumped. She had been so engrossed in her purse and thoughts of Barry and Dennis that she didn't even notice there was a woman standing outside of her apartment.

The woman smiled when Hanna's head jerked up at her voice, but it didn't quite reach her stormy gray eyes. She looked nervous and when Hanna simply froze, her hand still holding the keys inside of her purse, the smile dropped awkwardly.

“It's me,” the woman said, her eyebrows raised hopefully and her lips quirking to the side when Hanna couldn't do more than blink back at her. She had the same colored hair as Hanna remembered, cut a lot shorter and the short stature and freckly nose mirrored Hanna's just as it did when they were children.

The discomfort and worry that had been following Hanna around all day paled in comparison to the way her heart felt like it was trying to pound straight out of her chest and her entire body went cold. She thought for a moment that she would pass out...that maybe she had already passed out because this was the last person she thought she would see camped out beside her door.

“Lillian? I...you,” Hanna's mumbled words made no sense to her own ears and by the way the womans head tilted to the side they must have made no sense to her as well. “You shouldn't be here,” she finally whispered.

“Well, yeah,” Lillian said, crossing her arms and glancing down the hallway behind them. Hanna wished that one of her neighbors would poke their head out, that Mr. Franklin would have some excuse to wander down the hall or that Dennis would come back to scold her again...but nobody else was there and Hanna felt rooted to the spot with her older sister standing far too close.

“Why are you here?” Hanna's voice was trembling, she could hear it over the blood pounding through her ears.

“I thought we could, you know, talk...or something.” Lillian shifted her weight and adjusted her dark jacket. Watching her discomfort did nothing to help Hanna with her own.

“No,” Hanna said, taking a slow, deep breath and pulling her hand out of her purse, cold keys held so tightly in her hand that the edges bit into her palm. “You can't be here. You can't.”

“I know but Han, I-”

“You can't be real,” Hanna said, more to herself than to anyone else. Her fingers shook as she dropped her eyes to her keys and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. It felt like Hanna was seven years old again, frozen in fear of what her older sister was going to do. Was this a panic attack? Was this some sort of horrible delusion? Was she going crazy for real this time?

“I am,” Lillian said, taking a step towards Hanna.

“You need to go!” Hanna said, her voice louder than she had intended and before she could control it she jerked away from the hand that was reaching out towards her. “Please go.”

“I'm not going to hurt you.” At those words Hanna felt a few warm tears tingle against her cold cheeks. “Han, I'm not.”

“You said that before!” Hanna could no longer control the volume of her voice, perhaps she was yelling. Her hand came up and rested against her scarf, hovering over her neck. Hanna watched as her sisters eyes followed her hand before dropping to the ground between them.

“I know I hurt you, I wasn't right in the head,” Lillian finally said.

Hanna's mouth opened but no words would come out. She wanted to cry and scream and _demand_ that her sister leave her alone. No amount of talking could make Lillian understand how much her 'not being right in the head' had effected her...how much her sisters illness had caused Hanna's own.

“Go,” Hanna demanded, tucking her head down and skirting around Lillian to get to her door. Her heart pounded fast in her chest and her fingers fumbled on the keys as she struggled to get the door open.

“Hanna, come on,” Lillian said, her voice somewhere between exasperated and annoyed. Hot tears were now blurring Hanna's vision and she wished desperately that she would wake up in her bed. She had had this nightmare many times before.

When the lock to her door finally clicked open a hand pulled her shoulder, turning her and forcing her to face her sister. Hanna recoiled at the touch but Lillian followed Hanna's movements.

“I'm _real_ , and I'm not going to hurt you again.”

“I don't care!” Hanna shouted, her voice catching in her throat. She hated how _weak_ she sounded but she couldn't hide the fear that coursed through her. The touch on her shoulder shocked her to the bone and Hanna felt like she was seconds away from waking up after one of her nightmares, cold sharp metal pressing against her neck and her sister whispering in her ear and all of those horrible memories would fade away as soon as she jerked awake in her bed. But Hanna couldn't wake up this time and the memories clung to her mind. “Don't touch me!”

Hanna jerked away and Lillian's hands went up in a sign of surrender. Again, Hanna found her doorway blocked by her sister and a hard sob shook her shoulders.

“Please don't yell. I, Han...I need to talk to you. We can talk about this-”

“Don't touch me!” Hanna was yelling now. She wasn't even sure why those words came falling out of her mouth and Lillian held her hands up again as if to remind Hanna that she wasn't being touched. “Go away!”

A door opened down the hall and Lillian's head jerked around to see a small elderly woman poke her head out. Hanna kept her eyes glued to every movement her sister made and she was vaguely aware of the old Ms. Hart's raspy voice asking them a question.

“We're okay,” Lillian said, offering an awkward smile and stepping away from Hanna when a loud sob countered her words.

“Go away!” Hanna cried, her voice breaking.

“I'm, okay....Han okay,” Lillian said, glancing back at Ms. Hart down the hall who was watching them intently. “I'm leaving.”

Lillian took a few steps to the side, hands still raised to show both Hanna and the woman down the hall that she was in fact, not touching anybody and as soon as there was a clear path Hanna jumped to the door and threw it open. Spinning around, Hanna slammed the door shut as hard as she could, locking both the locks before taking a few steps away.

“Han, just think about it,” Lillian's voice said on the other side of the door, just loud enough for Hanna to hear.

“Go _away_!” Hanna screamed and another loud sob shook her shoulders. Her purse fell to the floor with a slap and Hanna raised her hands up to her mouth, trying to stifle some of the noise that continued to pour out but instead of silencing them she choked on them.

She threw off her jacket and shoes, feeling like if she could get the weight of those off of her maybe the weight on her chest would disappear too. It was a crushing pressure that made it hard to breath. Her fingers shook as she threw her second shoe across the room but she didn't feel any better as it slid to a stop against her bed.

Her mind was reeling, constantly bringing up the past that years of therapy had helped her come to terms with. Her older sister pulling her by the wrist, her grip so tight it made her fingers tingle. The knife dangling from Lillian's hand, reflecting the yellow light from the streetlamps as she was lead to their favorite hideout. The promise that her older sister, _her protector_ , would make Hanna right again and there was only one way.

_'There's something wrong with you.'_

The words were whispered in her ear, hot breath on her shoulder and cold metal against her neck.

Hanna jerked at the memory, ripping her scarf off from around her neck and throwing it onto the couch. A hot tear hit her hand as she lifted it to her neck. The cold metal was gone years ago but Hanna would always remember it. Icy cold for a moment and then pain.

Another uncontrollable sob broke the silence in her apartment and anger joined the fear that pulsed through her body.

Maybe there truly was something wrong with her. People get over those kinds of things. People recover and cope and learn to forgive those who have hurt them so why couldn't Hanna? What was so wrong with her?

Running her fingers through her hair Hanna looked around the apartment wildly. She moved quickly to her purse on the floor and dumped everything out onto the carpet, grabbing her phone and dialing her mothers phone number with shaky fingers. Hanna held the phone to her ear and took a long deep breath, hoping despite her tears and shaking that her voice would sound calm.

“ _Han?”_ her mother's voice was too loud in her ear. _“Han? Are you okay?”_

“Mom?” Hanna cringed at her own voice, raspy and trembling and the words barely made it out before a sob shook from her chest again.

“ _Are you okay?”_

“No.” Hanna gulped loudly, trying to clear her throat as much as she could. “I don't know. Lillian was here.” There was silence on the phone and Hanna waited, pulling the hem of her t-shirt up to wipe across her cheeks and trying to take slow calming breaths. “Mom, Lillian was here, she was waiting for me,” Hanna said again, louder this time. “How did she know where I live?”

“ _I told her,”_ her mom said slowly. _“Hanna, it's time for you two to talk.”_ Hanna closed her eyes and ran her fingers quickly through her hair, snagging on a knot and pulling it painfully.

“You what?” Hanna asked, confused at her mother's admission. There was no possible way she had heard her correctly. There had to be a terrible connection or a misunderstanding.

“ _Hanna, it's been years. You need to learn to talk to your family again.”_ Hanna's vision blurred for a moment and she thought she was going to pass out, but she blinked away the tears that were forming again and she could see her clothes tossed across the floor clearly.

“I don't want to talk to her,” Hanna said slowly, breathing in deeply through her nose and willing the pressure in her chest to go away. “I can't talk to her! How could you think I would want that? You told her where I live and you told her to come and find me?”

“ _It will help you.”_

“You had no right!” Hanna was yelling again, hot tears wetting her cheeks again and the weight coming back to her shoulders and chest tenfold. “You have no idea what I've been going through! You have no idea what my life has been like since she tried to kill me! _Fuck_ you!”

Hanna was yelling into the phone and she was vaguely aware of a knock on her front door and her mother's voice disappearing as she closed the phone and threw it into the kitchen. It slammed into a cupboard before falling loudly to the ground.

Her chest hurt even worse than it had before...if that was possible.

“Ms. Moreau? Hello? Are you okay?” Ms. Hart's voice, normally calm and gentle, was loud in the hallway and her tiny little hand knocked noisily on the door.

“Go away!” Hanna yelled, and fell back onto the floor. Pain pulsed through her butt and legs as she fell and she tried to gasp between her sobs. She brought her hands up to her face and pressed her palms into her eyes. Hanna hadn't meant to yell at Ms. Hart and guilt joined the mixture of terrible feelings that made her feel like a thousand pounds being pulled down to the ground.

Glancing over at the phone on the kitchen floor Hanna raised up to her kneels and crawled over, sitting with her back against a cupboard and dialing another number. She covered her mouth with her hand while she waited and listened to the ringing.

“ _Hello. You've reached Dr. Karen Fletcher. I'm unable to come to the phone right now, please leave a-”_ Hanna pressed the 'end call' button so hard she was sure she would break it. She groaned in frustration.

Her mother was supposed to be someone Hanna could talk to, but instead she had betrayed her. Her therapist was supposed to be her rock, a life ring to grab when she felt like she was drowning. But now she was drowning with nothing around her to grab onto to stay afloat.

Dialing Dr. Fletcher's number again, Hanna shut her eyes and waited. The voicemail came up again and Hanna cleared her throat, waiting for the beep before leaving a message and praying that her voice wouldn't give away how she was feeling.

“Hi, Dr. Fletcher. This is Hanna. I, um. Well, I think I need help. Something happened and-” Hanna's voice cracked and she let her head fall back to hit the cupboard and looked up at the ceiling. Her breath felt like it left her for far too long but it finally came back in a sob. She closed her eyes tightly and cleared her throat. “I think I need help. Please call me back when you can.”

Hanna hit the 'end call' button and rested her forehead on her arm, her knee digging painfully into her elbow but she couldn't bring herself to move. She just needed to breath. She was alone in this and she needed to remember that she could _breath_.

“Barry,” Hanna whispered, eyebrows drawn together while she thought about him. He was a patient too, albeit it a slightly different one than she was but maybe he would understand. She thought about it for a moment before looking at her phone again and flipping it open. The bright screen showed several missed calls and Hanna quickly deleted the voice mails from her mother before looking at the blank screen again.

She wasn't sure if this was fair to him or whether he would even answer but Hanna sent him a message anyway.

**Hanna: Is Barry there?**

Hanna set the phone down by her feet and pulled her knees closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly and pressing her forehead against her knees. The nightmare was over but she was still left reeling in its wake, tears still falling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

The phone vibrated against the tiles and Hanna's hand darted out to grab it.

**Barry: Yeah.**

**Hanna: Can I come over?**

**Barry: Of course. When?**

Hanna smiled weakly at her phone. She dreaded the 'why' question, though she was sure it was coming at some point or another.

**Hanna: Now?**

**Barry: Yeah, I'll be waiting at the gate.**

Wiping her eyes again Hanna stood up and shoved her phone into her pocket. She grabbed the keys off the floor and with a surge of energy that she thought had completely abandoned her she grabbed a few crumpled dollar bills and opened her door.

She almost expected to see Lillian in the hallway, or maybe Ms. Hart but thankfully it was empty and Hanna closed and locked the door behind her. She took every corner carefully as she made her way out of the building and goosebumps raised on her arms when she made it outside. Hanna thought briefly about going back upstairs to grab her jacket but that thought disappeared when she heard the breaks from the bus a half a block away.

Running to the bus stop Hanna made it just in time, thanking the bus driver and straightening out a wrinkled dollar bill and feeding it to the machine. She tried to ignore the weird stares from the other passengers and found a seat towards the back of the bus, trying to wipe her eyes as discretely as she could.

Her heart still felt like it was pounding too fast, and every stop of the bus it slammed harder into her chest as she watched who stepped onto the bus. When the doors closed and she didn't see Lillian, Hanna let out a breath of relief.

It felt like it took entirely too much time before Hanna saw the familiar sign for the Philadelphia zoo and her stop finally came. She tried to thank the bus driver but her voice stuck in her throat and she stepped off the bus silently.

Hanna was struck by how _cold_ it was. Her teeth clattered before she had a chance to firmly clench her jaw and wrap her arms across her chest, trying to hold in what body warmth she had left. She made her way quickly across the entrance of the zoo to the gate.

A tall figure stood just barely visible behind the bars and Hanna tried to bring up some form of a smile as she approached the gate but she knew it didn't look genuine. Her eyes and nose were probably red, her cheeks were probably still wet, and if she looked like half the mess she felt she looked like a disaster.

“Hanna? What happened?” Barry asked when Hanna got close enough to see him clearly, his normally light and cheerful voice worried as his bright blue eyes took in her disheveled appearance. “Where's your jacket? It's freezing out!”

He quickly unlocked the gate and motioned her inside, locking it behind her and reaching forward before stopping himself. He looked like he was stuck between wanting to keep his distance and being as close as possible.

“What happened?”

Hanna thought about how to approach that topic and she tried hard to smile. She felt tears forming in her eyes again and her attempt at pretending like she wasn't currently drowning failed miserably. Her shoulders shook – from crying or from the cold she wasn't even sure anymore – and Hanna stepped forward, pressing herself as close as she could to Barry and wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. Her arms had gone under his jacket and her fingers tingled as warmth very slowly seeped back into her skin.

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly.

“What? What for?” She felt Barry shift under her arms as his own wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

“Coming over so late,” Hanna said, her voice muffled by his shirt. “And for taking Hedwig to the carnival.”

“That's what this is about?” Barry asked and Hanna felt him lean his head down to rest on top of hers. “Oh no, you don't worry about any of that-”

“Not just that,” Hanna said, her voice feeling like it would fail her again at any moment. Despite the warmth radiating from Barry's body her own began to shake.

“We don't have to stand out here,” Barry said, pulling away and Hanna reluctantly let him. “Come on.”

With a hand on her lower back Barry guided Hanna out of the alley and through a few turns along the zoo's paths. Finally they arrived at a large well-hidden gray building and Barry lead her around to the back. She probably should have been taking notes on where they were or which turns they made but Hanna felt exhausted and had a hard time focusing on where they were walking. She settled on concentrating on the warmth from his hand instead.

“Here we are,” Barry mumbled, more to himself than to Hanna as he dropped his hand from her back and pulled his keys out of his pocket. The door opened with a loud creak and Hanna cringed at how the loud sound could signal to anybody around them that she was being sneaked into Barry's home.

Barry went in first and held the door open so Hanna could follow. It creaked just as loud as it closed and the sound echoed down the cold hallway while he locked it.

“Down this way.” His hand was back on her lower back and he guided her down the hallway and around the corner.

Hanna felt numb. Maybe from the cold or maybe just from exhaustion.

Barry left her alone in a small living room with the promise of being right back before returning with a dark colored blanket.

“Come over here,” Barry said, motioning to the couch and Hanna followed him. He unfolded the blanket and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, rubbing her arms and looking over her disheveled appearance; had she been feeling better she might joke about her fashion choice of her simple work shirt and pants. But she had a hard time looking up and meeting his gaze let alone attempting to joke; he probably thought she was insane. Well, more insane than before.

Hanna glanced up in time to see his eyes lingering on her neck and her face grew warm when she realized she hadn't just forgotten her jacket, she had forgotten her scarf. She had left behind the thing she always used to avoid that look of pity that would come across people's faces when they saw the thick scar stretched at an odd angle across her neck. She saw that look flash across Barry's face briefly, his eyebrows drew together before he looked back up at her face.

“Sit down,” Barry said, his voice gentle and worried and Hanna found herself being guided onto the couch when she didn't move.

“I tried calling Dr. Fletcher but she didn't pick up,” Hanna said finally, picking at her fingernail so she wouldn't have to witness Barry watch her red-eyed and post-meltdown.

“What happened?” Barry asked again, his arm coming to wrap around her shoulders and Hanna was pulled against his chest again. She pressed her face to his shirt and took a deep breath, finally feeling like some of the weight on her torso had left her.

“My sister found me,” she said slowly, realizing how bizarre that must have sounded. When Barry didn't say anything she realized he was waiting for her to continue so she took a slow breath, determined to explain it without falling back into a sobbing mess.

“Take your time,” Barry said, his voice barely above a whisper and he tightened his hold around her shoulders. Nodding, Hanna pulled the blanket tighter around her body and pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning into him and thinking about how she would start.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Hanna woke up to a mixture of comfort and discomfort.

She was surrounded by warm, soft blankets and a fluffy pillow but her mouth felt dry and her eyes and throat were sore. Rubbing her face, Hanna cracked open her eyes and looked around, blinking away the cloudiness of sleep until she could see the tiles on the ceiling above her.

The blankets around her were thick and dark; definitely not her own.

A lamp sat on a bedside table next to her and Hanna wondered if she should turn the light on. A dim light was shining in from the hallway and she decided that blinding her already-sore eyes was not the best way to start this odd morning.

Hanna rested her head back on the pillow and took a deep breath, the events from the day before rushing back to her. It was like getting hit by a train but Hanna hardly had the energy to dodge it. Taking another deep breath and then another, she tried to just let the bad feelings wash over her, hoping if she forced herself to relax they would wash away eventually.

Hanna was angry, betrayed, hurt, and still so confused on how her sister and mother had worked together to do something so harmful. They mingled in her stomach and made her nauseous. She was also embarrassed, having to push through her vulnerability to come and ask Barry to basically step in as her therapist.

It had been a lot to ask, Hanna realized.

 _Hey, I haven't known you for all that long, but can you stand in as my therapist while I have a full-on meltdown about this horrible past I never intended_ _on_ _tell_ _ing_ _you about?_ Hanna almost cracked a smile at her own sarcastic thoughts. Barry had taken it all in stride, never writing down a note or making Hanna feel like she was something he was studying or dissecting. He probably had a lot of questions; she had caught some of his confused expressions and saw his curiosity burning but he never asked any probing questions...letting Hanna share what she was comfortable with and accepting that she wasn't ready to share every single detail.

Hanna felt warm and safe talking to Barry, but that didn't erase the fact that it was also _embarrassing_ to be so emotional in front of someone she cared about. Would he think less of her now? Would it change anything between them?

Before she could let herself drown in those feelings again Hanna opened her eyes and shook her head.

She propped herself up on her elbows and shifted under the blankets to stretch her legs. Hanna was still in her work clothes from yesterday – she had a vague memory of being guided into the bedroom after having fallen asleep on Barry's chest.

Didn't she ask him to stay?

Hanna blinked at the ceiling, remembering that she had asked Barry to lay down with her...with the most innocent of intentions. Seeing as she was laying alone in the large bed, he had either refused outright or laid down with her until she fell asleep again and left. Her memory was fuzzy on the details.

Deciding to get up, Hanna pulled the blankets back, swung her feet to the edge of the bed, and found her socks and shoes placed neatly on the floor beside her. She pulled them on quickly and turned to straighten up the blankets, it felt rude to sleep in his bed and not at least straighten the covers and pat the wrinkles out of the pillow.

Beside the lamp on the bedside table was a tall thin vase with a bright yellow flower. Hanna reached out and touched one of the soft petals; it was a real flower. Not one of those fake plastic kind that felt waxy to the touch. She wondered if it was Barry that liked the flowers or if there was another flower-loving person somewhere in that body.

Hanna tiptoed out of the bedroom and found herself in the room where she had spent time spilling her guts out on the couch the night before. It was just as dark as it had been earlier with most of the light coming in from the kitchen, but Hanna could still see the large lump under the dark blanket on the couch.

A hand was sticking out and laying limp, finger tips almost touching the floor. Hanna smiled at his gentlemanly gesture and took quiet steps into the kitchen. Trying to be as silent as she could, Hanna found a pad of paper and a pen held up to the fridge with a magnet. Pulling them down, she jotted a note down and ripped the paper off of the pad before placing them both back where she had found them.

It was a simple note; _thank you for being there – Hanna_. She had tried to keep her handwriting as neat as possible but her fingers still trembled of their own accord.

Hanna decided to leave the note on the short coffee table in front of the couch where she also found her cellphone. She slid that into her pocket and took a last glance at the man on the couch, engulfed in the large blanket except for that one stray hand.

Finding her way out wasn't too hard. There was only one large hallway attached to the living room and it lead around a corner to the familiar door. Unlocking the deadbolt, Hanna tried hard to open the door without it creaking and closed it just as carefully, hoping she hadn't been loud enough to wake him up. A few voices reached her ears as soon as she stepped into the sunlight and she froze, waiting for them to fade away before peaking around and realizing they were very close to a visitor's path, hidden by some tall flowers and vine plants that formed a makeshift fence.

Hanna took a moment to try and make herself look as normal as possible, running her fingers through her hair and straightening her shirt. A cold breeze blew past her and ruffled the leaves of the plants around her and Hanna was thankful that it was not quite as cold as it had been last night...though she did wish she had gone back for a jacket.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Hanna pushed past one of the bushes carefully and made sure there weren't any guests walking around when she stepped onto the path.

Hanna realized she should have checked the time but a child yelled somewhere about a monkey and she figured she could pass as a guest enough to just walk out the exit.

Following the few signs she could find, Hanna finally made her way to the entrance of the zoo, keeping her arms crossed to hold in some semblance of body heat and kept her head down until she made it past the turnstiles and out into the entrance to the zoo. It looked different in the daylight with people meandering around...warmer and less exposed.

It was colder out in the open and Hanna rubbed the goosebumps on her bare arms.

She made it quickly to the bus stop and glanced at the sign that marked the times the bus would be coming. Hanna pulled out her phone and after clicking past the several missed calls saw that she would only be waiting for five more minutes before a bus would come.

Hanna rubbed her arms and waited, staring down the street at passing cars until her phone vibrated in her hand.

**Barry: Are you okay?**

Hanna smiled, feeling a little guilty that her leaving must have woken him up. She tried to still her fingers enough to text back.

**Hanna: Yes, thank you for everything last night.**

**Barry: Anytime. Dennis can be mad all he wants, you're always welcome.**

Hanna smiled again at that, clearing her sore throat and rubbing her eyes. A particularly loud car went flying down the street and her phone vibrated again.

**Barry: Are you going to see Dr. Fletcher?**

**Hanna: Yes, I think so.**

She wasn't entirely sure when, was the thing. And now that she had spent the entire night talking to Barry it felt like she didn't even need to go and talk to Dr. Fletcher. But Hanna did remember leaving that voicemail and _God_ she had been sobbing. She cringed at how pathetic that message must have sounded.

**Barry: Maybe we shouldn't tell her you stayed over last night.**

**Hanna: Yeah, that's probably a good idea.**

**Barry: What are you doing this weekend?**

Hanna paused, her fingers hovering over the keys after she typed out her message and wondering if it was too forward. She decided to send it anyway.

**Hanna: Doing something with you?**

**Barry: Sounds great. :)**

The bus came around the corner and Hanna shoved her phone into her back pocket and searched her front ones for the crumpled up dollar bill she knew she had. She smoothed it out just as the bus pulled up to the curb and the doors noisily slammed open.

The ride home felt like it flew by before Hanna found herself jogging up the stairs again, turning the last corner and fishing her keys out of her pockets. Before the door had even opened an inch an angry meow sounded from inside.

“Oh, Benny, I'm so sorry,” Hanna cooed when she was bombarded with an irate orange cat pacing at the front door. He let out a loud long meow and went to sit by his food bowl, giving it a sniff before turning and meowing impatiently again.

Hanna dropped her keys on the kitchen counter and grabbed a can, making quick work of opening it and dumping the entire contents into Big Ben's bowl. His meows finally quieted down while he chowed down and Hanna threw the empty can into the trash.

She knelt down to pick up her purse off the floor, gathering the things that had come spilling out of it when she had tipped it over the night before. Her chap-stick had rolled into the kitchen and a few receipts had gone flying around the room, but once Hanna had straightened the mess up she felt a little bit better and set her purse down on the kitchen counter.

In her back pocket, Hanna's phone rang and she flipped it open, feeling nauseous again even seeing the word _'mom'_ pop up on her screen. Hitting the end call button she decided to wander over to the couch and threw herself down, grabbing the remote and throwing on the news before flipping her phone open again and checking the messages.

“ _Hanna, please pick up. Come on, I'm worried about you!”_ Hanna hit delete.

“ _Han, seriously. I just want to know you're okay. Can we all just talk about this...like adults? Call me.”_ Hanna hit delete again.

“ _Hanna,”_ she paused with her finger hovering over the delete button. Her father's deep voice was not what she was expecting to hear; it had been so long since they had talked she almost forgot how raspy he was...he was probably still smoking a pack a day. _“Your mother is worried. Call her._ ”

He sounded disappointed and annoyed, and Hanna rubbed her forehead and hit delete.

Several more messages from her mother went by all sounding roughly the same with varying degrees of hysteria before she finally found one that was different.

“ _Hello Hanna, this is Dr. Fletcher. I just got into my office and got your message. You can call me back anytime today and come into the office whenever you can – I have a few appointments but I will work you in around them. Please come in, I would like to hear about what happened.”_

Hanna hit delete again and flipped her phone shut when there was no more messages.

She didn't feel like going into Dr. Fletcher's office and playing over everything in her head again...and she didn't think the therapist would hold back her probing questions like Barry had so they likely would have to talk about more than the bare basics of what had happened. But she didn't want to have the doctor show up to make a house call if she ignored her after leaving the kind of message that she had late at night.

Hanna sighed and rested her head back against the armrest and shut her eyes, wishing she could find a way to push all of the uneasiness out of her even just for ten minutes. Big Ben seemed to finish up his meal quickly and stalked passed the couch to hop up onto the bed.

“Fine, don't cuddle with me,” Hanna mumbled to the cat who was curling up on her pillow. “I've gotta leave anyway.”

Standing from the couch and running her fingers through her hair Hanna grimaced at how greasy the strands felt to her skin. She grabbed a hair tie off of the couch and threw her hair up into a messy bun, hoping it would disguise how badly she needed to wash it.

Hanna found her shoes – one by her bed and one near the bathroom door – and slid into them before grabbing her purse and making sure she had her phone and keys. She grabbed a glass of water and let the sink run for a moment while she grabbed her medicine from the cupboard, deciding that doubling up her dose might help her through the rest of the day. Hanna washed the pills down with a tall glass of water and shut the faucet off, leaving the glass on the counter and heading out to take a bus over to Dr. Fletcher's office.

* * *

 

Hanna reached the top of the staircase of Dr. Fletcher's building and stopped in her tracks when she saw a woman on the couch. She relaxed when she realized it wasn't who her instincts told her it was, the dark hair and sharp features looked nothing like her sister.

She smiled at the woman when she looked up and Hanna wondered if she should come back later. If Dr. Fletcher had a line-up of clients she didn't want to have to wait hours before she could assure the older therapist that she was in fact okay.

“We'll be done soon,” the sharp-faced woman said, her pearly white teeth gleaming as she grinned and motioned to the doctor's door. “Should only be another few minutes.”

“Okay,” Hanna said, feeling as if she should be accustomed to feeling uneasy by now as she took the seat furthest from the woman on the couch. She felt eyes on her but tried to ignore the way it made her stomach turn and occupied herself with pretending to look at her phone. She found herself spacing out several times, her mind being brought back sharply with each shift the waiting woman made.

Thankfully she only had to sit in awkward silence for another few minutes before she heard footsteps in Dr. Fletcher's office and the door opened. A young child, a boy who couldn't be older than twelve, followed the doctor out of her office and smiled shyly at Hanna. His mom stood up from the couch and reached out, grabbing his hand and thanking the therapist. It almost sounded like she was going to start making small talk when she was cut off by the older doctor.

“I'm glad you came,” Dr. Fletcher said, forgoing any introductions between Hanna and the patients who were leaving and giving a brief goodbye to the child before tilting her head to her office. “Come in. I've got plenty of time before my last appointment of the day.”

“Thank you,” Hanna said, following Dr. Fletcher in as the mom and child started down the staircase.

“So what happened last night, Hanna?” She wasn't going to beat around the bush like she often did during their regularly scheduled visits. Hanna thought about shrugging and trying to play it off as a bad anxiety night but she remembered how the voicemail had sounded and she didn't think that was something that could be sneaked passed the therapist.

“I, um, I got a visitor last night.” Hanna glanced around the room before taking her seat on the couch, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders as if it would offer some of the same comfort she had felt when Barry wrapped his arms around her shoulders last night; it didn't.

Dr. Fletcher hummed, taking her seat across from Hanna and straightening her glasses.

“My sister was waiting for me when I got home.” Hanna picked at the hem of her jacket but found her fingers started to tremble again so she clasped them together tightly in her lap.

“Lillian,” Dr. Fletcher said slowly, thin eyebrows drawing together.

“Yeah.” It was unnerving that the therapist already knew who her sister was and what her sister had done despite never talking about it before. “My mom told her where I lived.”

Dr. Fletcher seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment until she gathered her thoughts and thankfully set her writing pad to the side. “That was grossly out of line for her to do that.”

Hanna felt a rush of relief, having walked into the office unsure of whether the doctor would side with her or her mother on the topic.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Hanna said, looking down at her shaking hands again before placing them beside her on the couch and out of her sight.

“When your sister was there, what did you two talk about?” Hanna bit the inside of her cheek, mind wandering back to the moments after she found herself frozen in the hallway.

“Well, she wanted to talk...I didn't. I sort of, I think I just started yelling at her.”

“Do you remember it clearly?” Hanna remembered the fear, the flashback to her childhood, the pain that had almost cost her her entire life and the terror that her sister had come back to finish what she hadn't been able to finish when they were children.

“Not so much, no. Just kind of a blur. I was pretty upset.” She tried to keep her voice light, but 'upset' was the understatement of the year.

“I have to say, you sounded more than a little upset when you called me.” Hanna felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment and Dr. Fletcher quickly shook her head. “I don't want you to ever feel any sort of shame for calling me, or telling me what is going on or how you were feeling.” She offered Hanna a comforting smile but Hanna was studying the small stain on the knee of her work pants, face feeling red hot under the doctor's gaze. “You will never be judged here, and certainly never by me.”

Hanna nodded, using the edge of her thumb to rub at the stain before bringing her attention back to Dr. Fletcher.

“I feel like there is something other than just being upset that's bubbling somewhere under that surface,” she said, eyes studying Hanna closely and motioning vaguely to her with the tip of her pen. “What else were you feeling when you saw your sister?”

Hanna gulped. Perhaps she hadn't given Dr. Fletcher enough credit; the woman had clearly seen through any attempt at passing this all off as just some anxiety. She thought about any other thing she could say to hurry up their impromptu session and get out of there fast, but she was certain anything other than the truth would give her away in a heartbeat under the skilled therapists eyes.

When Hanna finally spoke, she wasn't sure if the word had actually passed her lips or not. “Guilty.”

She chanced a quick glance up at Dr. Fletcher's face. The woman's face had softened, no longer prying and searching.

“You had no responsibility in this. In what happened last night or what happened when you were seven.” When that didn't seem to make a difference Dr. Fletcher shifted in her seat. “Do you feel responsible in some way?”

“I mean, I kind of am,” Hanna said slowly, taking a breath and gripping her hands tight in her lap when a lump threatened to raise up into her throat. “There was something so wrong with me that Lillian thought she had to kill me.”

“What Lillian had were delusions, and they were so far removed from reality.”

“She wasn't crazy before it happened.” Hanna had been wracking her brain for _years_ trying to understand what had driven her sisters actions and every time she came up blank. Lillian had never hurt animals, had never been an angry or wild person or threatened her before...she was a normal teenage girl who worried about boys in her class and her hair. “Maybe she just wanted to do it. Maybe she still does.”

“I can't exactly speak on what is going through Lillian's head right now,” Dr. Fletcher said, her words slow and professional. “I want to focus on you and how you are dealing with this situation. What did you do when Lillian left?”

“Cried,” Hanna said, her cheeks burning red once more at her admission. Dr. Fletcher waited until Hanna cleared her mind enough to mull the question over. “I called my mom and that didn't help. Then I called you.”

 _Then I texted Barry._ Hanna bit her cheek and kept that last part to herself. She continued when Dr. Fletcher still remained quiet.

“I took a shower and went to bed.” Hanna felt her stomach flip as the observant eyes of her therapist took in her appearance and she realized that was not the best of lies...her hair was clearly unwashed and she waited with a held breath for Dr. Fletcher to call her out on it.

The doctor's eyes dropped from Hanna's hair and she released the breath.

“Have you talked to your mother since last night?”

“No. She left me a bunch of voice mails, my dad left one too. I deleted them though, I don't want to talk to either of them.”

“Some distance might be good for you,” Dr. Fletcher said, crossing her legs and glancing down at the pad of paper on her knee. “Now, I don't have much information from your previous therapist on your father. How long has it been since the two of you have talked?”

“A long time. Years,” Hanna added when she sensed the doctor was going to ask for something more specific. Her pen scratched something on the paper.

“Has he tried to contact you like your mother has?”

“Not until last night, I haven't tried either.”

“What caused that drift?”

Hanna took a second to bite her cheek and winced when her teeth sank too deeply into the skin. A warm metallic taste spread across her tongue but Hanna tried to ignore it, already feeling uncomfortable enough as it was with their conversation. Even talking to her last therapist, they hadn't brought that topic up in years.

“When Lillian was released from that mental hospital he wanted to bring her back home. I freaked out when I heard my parents talking about it, I think I told them I would run away. My dad didn't think it was fair to keep her there after her doctors were ready to release her, so he moved out. He moved a couple towns over where the hospital was and got an apartment for them to stay. They were just going to stay until Lillian was 18 and could live on her own, but about a year after he left, they got divorced.” Hanna shook her head, realizing she had been staring at the coffee table between them and pouring everything out quickly. Perhaps quickly would be the least painful way, like ripping off a band-aid instead of picking at it for weeks.

“You feel responsible for your parents divorcing,” Dr. Fletcher said slowly. “They were adults, and it sounds like your father made the decision to move away on his own.”

“Yeah,” Hanna muttered, but the therapists words offered no relief from what had been in Hanna's mind for years. She didn't feel like she had the energy to fight Dr. Fletcher on the topic and she looked around the room, hoping another topic would come up or that they would be finished for the day. When nothing came up Hanna glanced at the door over the therapists shoulder. “I should probably be going,” Hanna said slowly, waiting for Dr. Fletcher to set her pen and paper on the coffee table before standing and straightening her clothes.

“I'm very glad you felt you could come to me with this,” the therapist said, a grandmotherly smile spreading across her face. “And I'm very sorry this all happened, but I'm very impressed with how you're handling it now.”

“Thank you,” Hanna said, offering up the meager smile she could manage and wishing the doctor a good night before leaving the office and shutting the door quietly behind her.

Hanna took a second to blink hard and rubbed her eyes, feeling sleepy and hazy. A surge of panic took over before Hanna remembered earlier in her apartment; she had taken two doses of her medication. She almost smiled at how silly she felt, her mind rushing to being poisoned.

She took the stairs slowly and took her phone out of her pocket and was disappointed to see just a few text messages from her mother. Shrugging those off and deleting them without reading them, Hanna briefly wondered if it would be too forward to text Barry again. She got as far as opening her messages and clicking on his name before deciding against it; he probably needed a little bit of space after dealing with all of her issues the night before. Hanna zipped her jacket up when she stepped outside and went to stand by the bus stop. She looked forward to finally taking off her work clothes – it felt like she had been wearing them for days - and slipping into some warm blankets...even if they were just her own.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Hanna yawned and stretched her arms over her head, a cold breeze sending goosebumps across her stomach until she lowered her arms and adjusted her jacket. Her workday had flown by quickly and her boss had even let her leave an hour early, so instead of her normal route home she decided to stop by a park a mile away from her apartment and walk around there.

For such a chilly day there were quite a few people jogging or being dragged down the walking paths by their overly excited dogs. Hanna had made her way around the small park once and found a bench by a bus stop to sit on, only having to push a few pieces of newspaper off to the side to make some room.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she fished it out.

“Hello?”

“I have a surprise for you!”

“Hey Hedwig,” Hanna said, smiling when all that answered her was a giddy laugh. “What's up?”

“I have a surprise for you. But, you can't get the surprise over the phone.”

“So, how am I supposed to get this surprise?” Hanna leaned back into the bench and crossed her legs.

“You can come over. Nobody else is here and I can make sure they don't see.” His voice had dropped and he was whispering into the phone. “I can open the gate and you can come in and I can give you your surprise.”

Hanna glanced around. She was pretty sure the bus she took to the zoo stopped by an intersection not too far away. Plus, what else was she really planning on doing tonight besides wandering around the park and going straight home? Hanna briefly wondered if this would be another thing that Dennis would get angry over, but she told herself firmly that she wasn't taking Hedwig anywhere.

“Sure,” Hanna said and Hedwig let out a loud breath that he had been holding in.

“Awesome! When will you get here? I can meet you at the gate right now!”

“Well I need to take a bus over there.” Hanna pulled her phone away from her ear long enough to get a glance at the time. “I can be there in just over a half an hour?”

“Awesome! Okay. I'll be at the gate in a half an hour and then you can have your surprise.”

“Cool, I'll see you there. Bye.” Hanna flipped her phone shut and stood, slipping it and her hands into her jacket pockets and finding her way to the other bus line.

* * *

 

“You made it!” Hedwig said before Hanna had even made it to the gate. His fingers fumbled through the keys and after a few attempts he found the right one and the door swung open just as she approached him. “Come on!”

“Hey,” Hanna said, smiling at the excited boy as he carefully shut the gate and locked it again.

“I have a surprise for you.” Hedwig spun back towards Hanna and bit his lip, rocking back and forth on his feet and trying desperately not to yell out what it was.

“What is it?” Hanna asked and he let out a loud bark of a laugh.

“It's a surprise! Duh,” Hedwig said, rolling his eyes in exaggeration and scoffed before his face broke into that toothy grin again. “I'm not gonna tell you what it is until I show you!”

“Okay,” Hanna said, chuckling at his enthusiasm.

His hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist tightly, turning down the path and whispering for Hanna to hurry up. She was getting more and more used to walking around the zoo at night, and finally had figured out the pathways they used to get to the large gray building and around the back.

Hedwig took a second to flip through the keys and finding the right one, letting out a long breath and relaxing as soon as the door creaked shut behind them. He lead Hanna through the hallway and slipped off his jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch and skipping across the room to flip the light on.

He took large bouncy steps back to Hanna as her eyes were adjusting to the light.

“I'll be right back. I have the surprise in my room. Stay here though, okay? Don't leave. You gotta stay here and wait.” He suddenly looked unsure and nervous, eyebrows drawn together.

“I won't leave,” Hanna said, repeating herself firmly before Hedwig seemed to believe that she wouldn't turn and run the moment he left. He darted down the hallway, his footsteps heavy and echoing into the room until a door shut somewhere farther away.

Hanna stuffed her hands in her pockets and glanced around.

The room was brighter this time and she could see more than the small couch and table, which was all she remembered from the place besides the small bedroom and kitchen. A long table lined one of the walls and Hanna stepped over to see what the piles of paper stacked on it were. A floor lamp was stuffed into the corner and Hanna reached over to pull the cord, and a shockingly bright light flooded the papers.

Blinking, Hanna waited for her eyes to adjust before taking a closer look. They looked like fashion designs and she smiled; she must have found Barry's workspace. Hanna was cautious as she snooped, reaching down and handling one of the pieces with careful fingers. It was headed with ' _Winter Line'_ and sharp geometric shapes of different colors adorned the shockingly tall and thin model wearing a knee-length coat. A wide hat spread wide over the woman's shoulders and Hanna imagined the artistic man hunched over his desk and working on his pieces. They didn't make much sense to her, but they looked beautiful nonetheless and she wondered if he ever brought any of his pieces to life.

She set the paper back on the desk and turned the light back off, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the room again before glancing around. A tall bookshelf stood in the corner, almost reaching the ceiling with books lining each shelf and even more stacked on the floor beside it in disorganized piles. Someone was a bookworm.

Hanna made her way over and glanced at some of the titles. Some looked like history books, others like philosophy and other oddball topics that Hanna expected to see tucked inside an old library.

She reached out to pick up one of the books.

“You must be Hanna.”

She jumped at the feminine voice and spun around, her hand snapping back to her side as soon as her fingertips brushed the spine. Her heart felt like it had jumped up into her throat...she had expected to hear Hedwig's loud galloping steps to warn her that he was coming back.

“I didn't mean to startle you.” Hedwig – well, the _body_ of Hedwig – stood in the doorway, back straight and hands clasped in front of him. At first Hanna thought of Dennis, perhaps it was the posture she remembered from the glances she stole when he was in her apartment...but the voice was more like a womans.

“We haven't met,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and she stepped into the room. Everything from their clipped words to the way their body moved screamed control and it put Hanna on edge, though she tried hard to hide it with a smile. She had expected this new person to ask her to leave, to yell at her for coming in, or join Dennis in the _let's ban Hanna_ club so their courtesy caught her off guard.

“We haven't, I'm Hanna.” She thought about attempting a hand-shake but they stood at opposite ends of the room and Hanna liked that distance.

“I know, I've seen you before at the art show and in Dr. Fletcher's waiting room. I'm Patricia.” Again, the corner of lips on the familiar face lifted just a fraction of an inch and their eyes seemed to smile without the same sparkle that Hedwig or Barry had.

Hanna wasn't sure if this new person was amused at her discomfort or not. It was unnerving realizing again and again that while she might be talking to one alter others could be watching through those same eyes; was anyone else watching her now?

Patricia move to the other side of the room, her steps short and precise and just as she was about to go into the kitchen she tilted their head and asked Hanna to follow.

Hanna did slowly, feeling like a mouse caught rummaging through a house they had broken into and waiting for this cat-like person to pounce. She had turned the light on in the kitchen and stood by the sink until Hanna had made her way to the door.

“Come on, I'm not going to bite. You can come in. Take off your jacket.” Their tone was teasing but their teeth flashed with their predacious smile and Hanna wondered if she should be more cautious than she already was as she slipped her jacket off and laid it over the back of the kitchen chairs. She tried to force herself to let go of her panic...if one of the alters was truly dangerous to her surely Barry or Hedwig would have warned her by now.

“You're not mad?” Hanna asked and she cleared her throat when she realized her quiet voice made her out like the mouse in the trap that she felt.

“No, I'm not mad,” Patricia said chuckling, turning to pull two coffee mugs down from a cupboard. “Hedwig really shouldn't be encouraging people to come inside but Barry does seem to trust you. And I trust his judgment. So, are you a jasmine person or a camomile person?”

Hanna blinked and realized that she was holding up two different boxes of tea.

“You strike me as a camomile person,” Patricia said slowly, eyes narrowed as if studying her for a moment before turning and putting one of the boxes back in the cupboard.

“Oh, yeah. Camomile sounds fine, thank you.” Hanna tried to make sure her voice sounded firmer and more confident but that wasn't something that came naturally to her so she wasn't sure how it came across.

“Should only take a few minutes for the water to heat up,” Patricia said, having filled a large red tea kettle with water and set it on the stove. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Hanna said, picking at the corner of her fingernail. “I already had dinner.”

That was a lie, Hanna hadn't made it into her apartment after work, but the discomfort and wariness of meeting this new person made her stomach flip.

“It is quite late, I suppose,” Patricia said, stepping over to look at the clock on the wall.

“Sorry, I can go,” Hanna said quickly. “I didn't know it was so late-”

“No, no,” Patricia said, her voice quiet but shushing Hanna. “Hedwig asked you over for a reason, it would be rude to let you leave without your surprise.”

Hanna smiled uneasily. It felt like she had already gotten a surprise, more than what she was expecting. Before Hanna could form a good excuse to duck out quickly Patricia was asking her another question.

“Do you take sugar in your tea?” Patricia pulled two spoons and a box of sugar cubes out of a drawer and shook the box when Hanna didn't answer right away.

“Sure.” It had been a long time since Hanna had made any tea, usually having coffee for the energy rush instead but she always added sugar to her coffees.

“One cube or two?”

“One's fine.”

“I heard that Barry took you to look at the animals here,” Patricia said, her voice light but Hanna felt herself go even more on edge than before...like she was a teenager getting interrogated by her boyfriends parents under this persons sharp, unwavering eyes. “Do you have a favorite?”

“I liked the hippos,” Hanna said after a moment of thinking them over. “And the tigers. Do you?”

“My favorite seems to change with the seasons. At the moment I've been enjoying watching the meerkats. They're so social and playful, but they're sneaky too. You never quite know what they're up to. They'll run around and disappear down their little holes and then-” She made a sudden loud _popping_ sound that made Hanna jump. “-they appear where you least expect them.”

Hanna tried to smile but she was certain her lips didn't move much and she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in when Patricia's perusing eyes moved off of her to the counter. Hanna watched the womans movements carefully as she took a bag of camomile tea out for each of them.

“Oh,” Patricia said sharply, making Hanna jump again as she spun around. “I can't forget your surprise and I won't hear the end of it if Hedwig finds out you never got it. Please excuse me, I'll be right back.”

Hanna stepped to the side as Patricia left the room quickly, her short fast steps very different from Hedwig's clumsy stomps. She took a deep breath in when Patricia disappeared down the hallway and held it in her chest, willing her uneasiness to pass so she could relax and her heartbeat could calm down.

If this new alter really wanted to hurt her or push her away or ban her from ever entering their home again, surely they would have done it already...not wait until after tea and well-mannered interrogation.

Hanna took a few steps around the kitchen but decided not to look around too much, and instead took a seat at the small two-person table and waited until Patricia returned.

“Here we are,” Patricia said, a folded up piece of paper in her hands. She placed it on the table in front of Hanna and tapped it with a long finger. “I do believe he worked very hard on this, so I hope you appreciate his workmanship.”

Hanna smiled, grabbing the paper when Patricia went back to the stove to set up their tea and unfolded it. She let out a quiet laugh when she saw what Hedwig had been so excited to give her.

It was a picture, hand-drawn and Crayola-colorful. A boy with blond hair and messy penciled freckles sat on a bench next to a taller woman with a bar across their laps. Wide smiles took up half of their faces and multi-colored dots littered the bottom of the page; he had drawn the two of them on the Ferris wheel...and at the bottom the name “Hedwig” written in bulky letters.

“I love this,” Hanna said, her heart feeling like it could melt right out of her chest. “Please let him know this is going on my fridge.”

“He'll be very pleased to hear that.”

Hanna carefully folded the paper back up and pulled her jacket off of the chair to slip it into the pocket, taking note not to wrinkle it on her walk home. Patricia set a cup of steaming tea in front of Hanna before returning to the stove, grabbing her own cup and leaning against the counter.

“I do have a question for you,” Patricia said slowly, taking a sip of her tea and watching Hanna test her own cup over the rim. She closed her eyes as if savoring the taste before Hanna was met with the same studying gaze as before. “What are your intentions?”

Hanna lowered her own cup, gulping her own tea hard and wiping a drop from the rim with her thumb. “My intentions with....?”

“With Barry. And by extension of course, the rest of us.” Patricia offered a kind smile but Hanna felt like she was watching a mother bear flashing sharp teeth again.

“I just like being around him,” Hanna said slowly, watching Patricia's face for any signs that what she was saying was wrong but the tight-lipped smile gave her very little to read. “I like Hedwig too, and Samuel. I haven't met many more yet, I know there's quite a few more.”

“Yes, there are. You have met Dennis too, if my memory serves correct.”

Hanna nodded and took another drink from her cup. So this person had been watching them when they had been standing in her apartment, her dressed in her pajamas and sick as a dog. Her cheeks felt red and she took another quick sip of her cup, thinking over how she would respond but Patricia spoke up again before she could.

“I apologize on his behalf if he came across as unpleasant.”

“No, it's okay,” Hanna said quickly. “I know he was just protecting Hedwig.”

“He protects us all and sometimes that means he may lash out if he feels it's in our interest. I hope that doesn't soil your view of the rest of us.”

“No.” Hanna adjusted the hot cup in her hands. “It doesn't.”

“Good,” Patricia said, her smile a little more relaxed. Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she looked Hanna up and down. “You seem like an honest person. I can see why they like you.”

Hanna felt embarrassed under Patricia's gaze again, but she smiled back.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys SO MUCH for your patience and encouraging words. I really love hearing from you guys and it is so motivating to get little comments and see that people are still enjoying this.

Hanna tapped out a mindless tune with her boot against the leg of the coffee table. The dull _tap tap taps_ gave her something other than the impending appointment to think about, and since her last session had been filled with spilling her guts out, she was dreading what would come up this week.

So she tried to block those worrying thoughts by striking the table leg with her boot. First she tapped out Frosty the Snowman but stopped halfway through when the song did little to ease her anxiety. Probably another month before Christmas songs would be in season anyway.

She let out a noisy breath and grinned to herself, leaning back into the couch.

 _In season_. Even the thought of those words sounded like Barry in her head. She smiled again at the thought of him; one of the few positives of these anxiety-ridden appointments was the brief meeting in the waiting room as he left and Hanna went in. Any other time she was never sure which one of them would have the light but during their meetings with Dr. Fletcher, she always knew Barry would be the one there.

As if on queue, heavy footsteps got louder and the office door opened. Barry backed into the waiting room and shaking his jacket up and onto his shoulders. He grinned and said his goodbye to the therapist before shutting the door and spinning on his heels.

“There you are,” he said, his smile growing as he took a few long steps across the room to the seats.

He fell heavily onto it with a dramatic sigh beside Hanna, turning his body just enough to prop his elbow on the back of the couch and resting his head on his knuckles.

“Good session?” Hanna asked, raising her eyebrows when he just shrugged and crossed his legs.

“More of the usual, I guess,” he said with disinterest before changing the subject abruptly. “Do you have any plans for tonight after yours?”

His eyes flickered to the door for any sign that Dr. Fletcher was about to peak her head out into the waiting room. When it was clear they had the room to themselves for another few moments at least he turned back to Hanna.

“I have a very important appointment to be meowed at by the cat and re-watch The Office for the hundredth time. So no, no plans.” Hanna smiled playfully before raising her eyebrows questioningly.

“I was thinking maybe we could go on a date.” Barry's gaze was on the cuff of his jacket and he spoke his words very slowly, like he was carefully picking them out so they would come out just right. His forehead wrinkled as he glanced up at Hanna from under the brim of his beanie.

“A date? So like a _date_ date?” Hanna asked, her voice teasing as a grin spread across her face.

“Yes,” Barry said, rolling his eyes and that wide genuine smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He nervously glanced between her and the office door again. “A _date_ date.”

“That sounds great,” Hanna said, feeling her smile falter for a split second as her mind immediately jumped to a scenario she had already experienced. She could show up for the date and Barry wouldn't be there. Someone else could take the light and stay home or someone else could take the light and go to dinner. That was how she met Hedwig, after all.

When she glanced back at Barry his face had softened and he seemed less certain, almost nervous. He must have seen her hesitation.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked. He leaned back into the couch and he relaxed.

Hanna tried to ignore the nagging anxiety part of her mind that told her she probably wouldn't even get to have the night with him, not the kind she wanted anyway. But even if she didn't – even if someone else took the light – she would get to meet another alter or spend time with one she had already met. She tried to think about the positives in that.

“I was thinking Italian,” Barry said, going into detail about a dish Hanna couldn't have pronounced even if she tried with ingredients she had only heard about on TV. While he talked, she tried to picture sitting down to dinner in a restaurant and making small talk with Patricia over pasta, or listening to Dennis tell her why she should be banned from coming over to their house.

“I honestly don't know what any of that is,” Hanna said with a laugh. “Can I just get some spaghetti or lasagna?”

“If you let me pick the wine.” Barry was grinning again and his eyes lit up, her hesitation forgotten.

“Deal.”

Another scenario popped up in Hanna's head. There was also the chance that it could turn into an actual date with Barry. A normal date, one she hadn't had in years with a man she very much liked spending time with. She could see herself listening to Barry go on and on about all the different things he was passionate about and that scenario snuffed out the others that were fighting it out in her mind.

That was the one she would focus on and hope for; wine and Italian food with Barry.

“Oh, but one condition,” he said quickly, his voice lowering in mock seriousness but the playfulness in his eyes betrayed him. He carefully placed his chin on his fist and waited until Hanna was giving him another questioning look. “If I pick the place we eat then you need to pick what we do after.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just dinner is just a date but it sounded like you want a _date_ date.”

“So very different than just a date.” Hanna nodded, her attempt at a serious expression failing miserably.

“You know, people have dinner and then go to a movie or a bar or a fair.” Barry grinned cheekily at the last suggestion and Hanna rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I think I'm good on the fair thing for now, thanks.”

“Well think about it. I'll text you the address and you pick where we go after.”

Hanna tried to make a sour face at the idea of having to make a decision but she couldn't hold it for long and she was smiling again. “Alright. I'll think of something. I guess you have a deal.”

“Perfect, I will see you later tonight for a real _date_ date.” He winked and was up from the couch and jogging down the stairs. Just as Hanna realized she hadn't asked him what she should wear the door to Dr. Fletcher's office opened and Hanna stood, reeling from the sudden shift to uneasiness in her stomach.

* * *

 

**Barry: How about I pick you up? It's within walking distance of your place.**

**Hanna: Sure. I'll be ready to go in 20 minutes.**

Hanna stood in front of her bathroom mirror, frowning at the girl who pouted back at her.

She had added some mascara and lip balm but her knowledge and skill at makeup stopped there. So, a little more bare-faced and plain than she pictured for a date, she had to move on to the hopeless case that was her hair.

Had Hanna known she was to do anything other than become one with her couch before her appointment she would have done something with her hair besides a ponytail, because now one big wave interrupted what was normally her straight hair. She tried to flatten it with her hands but it was not budging, and Hanna didn't have time to do anything but pull it back up into a ponytail and smooth down the small pieces that didn't like to behave.

Hanna sighed to herself when she had deemed her hair okay enough and moved on to her closet to pick her clothes. The fraying jeans and boots that she had worn to her appointment was far from _date date_ material and she shifted through the hangers in her closet...trying to picture something that could potentially be approved by the fashion guru.

Hanna sighed when she realized there was probably nothing in here that he would give his “stamp of approval” to. She didn't have any dresses or fancy clothes aside from work slacks...she rarely had any reason to wear them. So a plain jacket, gray skirt, blue top and scarf it was.

“Do I look okay, Benny? I know, I know. All dressed up and ready to go,” Hanna said after changing her clothes and going to give Big Ben a noisy kiss on the soft fur between his ears. The tabby sniffed her offered hand and shifted onto his side, a paw kneading the blanket under him and Hanna scratched his chin and belly while he purred.

Her phone vibrated on the counter and she pointed a finger at the lazy cat on the couch. “Don't wait up for me, big guy.”

She grabbed the phone and flipped it open, maneuvering her feet into her flats as she read.

**Barry: I wasn't sure which apartment is yours so I'll be by the front door.**

**Hanna: Be right down.**

She rushed over to give Big Ben one last peck on the head – he mewed angrily at being disturbed – and grabbed her keys and purse before shutting and locking the door behind her.

Hanna tried to keep the smile from taking over her face when she had read the text again on her way down; so this was Barry she was going to be going on a _date date_ with. She put her phone and keys into her purse as she stepped out of the stairwell and over into the entrance.

Through the glass doors she saw a distorted figure that moved closer, pulling the door open before she got there.

“Long time no see.” Barry greeted her with a grin and shut the door behind her.

“It's been ages,” Hanna sarcastically agreed and stepped down the stairs to the sidewalk. “Where to?”

“You'll see,” Barry said in a singy-song voice, an extra skip in his step as he joined her. “So have you decided what we'll do after dinner?”

“I have actually.” Hanna paused for dramatic effect and waited until Barry had tilted his head to look at her. “Bowling.”

“Bowling?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Yep. You wanted me to pick. I pick bowling so you, sir, will have to sit through a game of me kicking your butt.” Hanna grinned when it was clear Barry didn't completely hate the idea.

“I didn't peg you as a bowling person.”

“Oh, I'm not. I've never bowled actually,” Hanna admitted. “But I've always wanted to. So why not?”

“Then why are you so sure you'll kick my butt? Maybe _I'm_ a bowling person....”

Hanna hummed and stared at him for a moment, a smile growing on her face before she shrugged.

“Nah. You're definitely not a bowling person.” He scoffed and a hand flew up to his chest.

“How exactly would you know? I may be an excellent bowler. I could be an expert.”

“I can't see you wearing the shoes,” Hanna finally said, pointing down towards his feet.

He let out a loud bark of a laugh, his cheeks turning red before he calmed down and seemed to accept it. “Okay, okay, I'll give you that one.”

“You're going to have to wear the shoes tonight though,” Hanna said, her smile growing as Barry feigned distress at the thought. “You'll find a way to work through it.”

“They're always terrible,” he said, his shoulders dropping and throwing his head back, groaning loudly.

Hanna reached over and patted his shoulder sympathetically. “We'll work through this...for bowling.”

Barry let out a dramatic sigh before finally conceding with a bow of his head. “For bowling.”

He suddenly dropped the mock distressed act and grabbed Hanna's elbow, pulling her to the side and motioning across the street.

“It's over here,” Barry said, hitting the crosswalk button and letting go of Hanna's arm. She smiled and glanced up at him watching the cars pass; he still seemed to be making an effort to keep contact to a minimum since he had rushed her when they first met, and she found that extremely sweet...even if him pulling away left her arm feeling oddly cold after.

The cars stopped and the signal turned green for them to cross.

“You're going to love this place,” Barry said, abandoning the pained look he had been sporting to make Hanna laugh and was back to talking passionately, eyes sparkling and wide toothy grin taking over his face. “If you're getting spaghetti we can pair it with this amazing Italian Chianti they have. It will knock your socks off. Or if you don't like reds they have several Pinot Grigio's. I haven't tried them personally but I've read amazing things about how they pair with tomato sauce.”

“Italian Chianti is...,” Hanna trailed off, hopping up onto the curb and letting Barry lead her another block down the street to a small Italian restaurant.

“It's a bold red wine,” he said with a smile down to Hanna. “It goes really well with spahgetti.”

The sign over the restaurant was dark green, with beautiful white lettering so curly she couldn't make out the name. It probably wasn't in English anyway, Hanna thought as Barry opened the door and the smell of pasta and cheese made her stomach grumble.

“Welcome to L'angolo Delle Delizie, two for tonight?” a cheery young woman with nearly-white blonde hair asked, holding up two menus and guiding them through the front entrance and into a small dining room. She had been right about the name at least.

Hanna was relieved to see it must be a quiet night, and only a few other tables held small quiet groups. They were lead to a table along the wall and Hanna paused to take in the art on the walls before having a seat across from Barry, slipping out of her jacket and throwing it across the back of her chair.

“Did the art walk wake up the art lover in you?” Barry asked with a waggling eyebrow, straightening his menu in front of him and flipping it open.

Hanna rolled her eyes but eventually nodded. “I guess. I still don't know anything about them though. Not like you or Dr. Fletcher anyway, I just know whether I like them or not.”

“Knowing whether you like them or not is pretty much all there is to being an art critic. That and sounding confident,” Barry said and nodded when the cheerful waitress offered them water.

“Would you like anything else to drink?”

“Oh, we will both have a glass of the Italian Chianti,” Barry said and Hanna fished out her ID when the waitress asked, slipping it back in her purse when it was handed back to her.

“I'll be right back with those.”

“ _Yo_ _ung lady_ ,” Barry said teasingly, peering at her over the top of the menu.

“Shut up,” Hanna muttered and grabbed her own to flip through. “I always get ID'd just cause I'm short, it's not fair.”

She heard Barry snicker and threw him a half-assed glare over her own menu before looking over the food. Her eyes landed on the _Pasta_ section and she quickly picked the one with the description that sounded familiar enough; plain spaghetti with tomato sauce and a list of spices and seasonings. She skimmed over the _Seafood_ section and cringed at some of the entrees that had squid and other oddball animals and closed her menu.

“Here are these.” The waitress was back with a basket of bread, butter, and their two glasses of dark red wine. “Do you need a few more minutes?”

“Yeah, thank you,” Barry said, laying his menu down and taking a long sniff from his glass while Hanna snatched up a piece of bread. “Not sure if I want cibreo or cervelli fritti.”

She flipped open her own menu and flipped it closed as soon as her eyes landed on the description of the first one. She made a face when Barry looked up at her.

“This is the perfect place to try things you can't get at regular restaurants. They have very authentic food,” Barry said matter-of-factly but that didn't change the fact that Hanna looked like she had smelled something terrible.

“Maybe there's a _reason_ they don't serve it at regular restaurants,” Hanna countered with raised shoulders and eyebrows.

“Oh come on,” Barry tried with a grin creeping back onto his face and he leaned towards her to whisper. “Step out of your comfort zone! Try something new!”

“I will be!” Hanna said defiantly, grabbing her glass of wine and holding it up as proof, swirling it around when Barry didn't look impressed. “ _And_ bowling. That's already more out of my comfort zone than I have been since the zoo.”

“Fair enough,” Barry said, putting up a hand of surrender as he took a sip of wine.

The waitress came by and took their order and Hanna found herself looking up at the painting above their table and ripping off pieces of her bread.

“So is this one you like?” Barry asked, drawing her attention away from the painting. “Or does this not get Hanna's approval.”

“It does,” Hanna said but her voice was too high, and she tried to hide her smile by stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth when Barry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. She had never been a great liar. When his gaze didn't shift Hanna glanced around to make sure the waitress wasn't hanging around within earshot. “It's boring,” she admitted quietly. “All dark colors...nothing bright or light.”

“So you like the colorful ones?” Barry asked, taking a moment to look up at the wall and look it over carefully.

“I guess so. I like that one in Dr. Fletcher's office behind the couch. The one with a bunch of bright splashes.” Hanna took a sip of the wine and was surprised. Being a beer person, she thought she would have to plug her nose to get it down but the flavor wasn't that bad.

“How is it?” Barry asked, nodding to the glass in her hand when Hanna tilted her head to the side.

“Surprising. Oh, in a good way,” she added quickly and set the glass down. “I usually go for beer so I wasn't sure what to expect. Last time I had wine was probably a couple years ago, and it was absolutely terrible.”

“What kind did you try?”

“I have no idea what type it was but it was four dollars for a bottle of it,” Hanna said, laughing when Barry coughed and sputtered on his water. He was able to calm down and fixed Hanna with a disbelieving stare, his hand held over his chest as if he was personally offended.

“You were expecting a four dollar bottle of wine to be good?”

“I don't know wine!” Hanna said defensively, shaking her head when Barry kept sniggering at her. “Four dollar beer is just fine why should wine be any different?”

Before Barry could go into what he was clearly knowledgeable on, the waitress interrupted to bring out their plates. Hanna was relieved to see the familiar plate of spaghetti being placed in front of her and no bizarre sea monsters on the plate set in front of Barry.

“You sure you don't want to try a bite?” Barry asked, gathering up a forkful of _whatever_ it was and offering it across the table.

Hanna wrinkled her nose and started in on her own dish.

“So are you liking the new doc?” Barry asked and Hanna mulled the question over until she was finished with her bite.

“It's okay so far.” She shrugged. “I've never switched therapists before so it's kinda weird.”

“How long were you seeing your last one?” Barry asked. He was watching Hanna closely when she looked up from her glass of wine, like trying to gauge whether the conversation was over a line or not.

“Since I was eight, so quite a while,” Hanna said with a reassuring smile when Barry looked surprised. She didn't mind this kind of talk with him, it didn't seem so uncomfortable or alienating to talk to him about it. “What about you? How long have you been seeing Dr. Fletcher?”

“For about five, five and a half years now. Before that I sort of hopped around therapists. It was hard finding one that actually believes in our system.”

Hanna paused as she was about to take a bite. “System?”

“Like, all of us,” Barry said after a moment, twirling his fork in his hand in a circle by his head. “Me, Patricia, Dennis, Hedwig.... All of us inside of Kevin. We just call it our system.”

Hanna nodded but before she could ask another question the waitress stopped by their table and motioned to their glasses.

“We'll both take another,” Barry said, finishing his with one last swig and handing the glass to the platinum blonde.

“I see what you're doing,” Hanna said with a grin, narrowing her eyes suspiciously and finishing her own glass of wine with a gulp. She set it on the edge of the table and glanced up to see Barry giving her a very innocent 'I have no idea what you could be talking about' look.

“Drunk or not, I bet I'll still beat you at bowling.”

“If you're so confident maybe we _should_ make a bet,” he said, thanking the waitress when she dropped off two more glasses in front of them. Barry picked up his glass and tilted it back and forth, his lips puckered as he thought.

“Winner buys beer?” Hanna asked with raised eyebrows.

“Are you going to be able to handle more?” Barry asked tauntingly, motioning to the glass of wine she was already raising up to her lips. Hanna scoffed and held a hand over her chest offensively.

Her face did feel a little warm and she did have the familiar tingle in her stomach from a buzz; the wine was probably hitting her harder than usual since she hadn't been drinking as much as she normally did over the last few weeks. But she refused to admit that when Barry was giving her a teasing smile.

“Are you implying I'm a light-weight?” she asked disbelievingly, narrowing her eyes and daring him to admit it.

“I'm implying that the same volume of alcohol may have a drastically different effect on our bodies based on the difference in our sizes-”

“You're calling me a light-weight,” Hanna said with a grin. Barry stuffed a huge forkful of food into his mouth and raised his shoulders. “Oh, I am _so_ going to request the ugliest pair of shoes for you later.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!  
> I also have this story posted on ff.net and will be posting updates and information about the story on my tumblr. Message me for the links and I'll get them to you!


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